REVELATIONS 6 8
by Jen1978
Summary: Pulled by unknown forces into the chaos and the deep bowels of hell itself, it is only a handful of wrestlers that will put their lives and sanity on the line to save this world before it’s too late ... Undertaker,John Cena,Batista,Kane,Jeff Hardy.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

**Summary:**

Pulled by unknown forces into the chaos and the deep bowels of hell itself, it is only a handful of wrestlers that will put their lives and sanity on the line to save this world before it's too late.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Disclaimer : All wrestling characters appearing in this story belong to themselves and the W.W.E. WARNING: This story contains extreme violence, serious angst, psychological trauma and religious themes. If you feel unconformable with any of the above, please don't read. Some of the issues handled in the chapters to come do not express the true beliefs of the writer. Feel free for any questions, criticism and observations.

Now… get comfortable…

Turn off the lights…

Close the door behind you…

Let's begin our descent.

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And I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals, and I heard, as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying, Come and see.

And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer.

And when he had opened the second seal, I heard the second beast say, Come and see.

And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword.

And when he had opened the third seal, I heard the third beast say, Come and see. And I beheld, and lo a black horse; and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his hand.

And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts say, A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine.

And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see.

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.

**(****Taken from the ****King James Version**** of the Bible, Revelation chapter 6, verses 1 to 8)**

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There was only one thing he could think of that scared him the most;

One thing that could still wake him up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, sometimes screaming…

And that was… a house.

But not just any house.

This house was real. It existed not only in his dreams, but also in his own far away and forgotten home town. There was nothing special about it, just a normal two storey house located in the exact centre of the small town he used to live in when he was a small child so many years ago.

In his sleep, its windows' blinds were always kept shut just as they always were back then; the color of the exterior had faded into a shade of dirty grey. The once green garden was long ago abandoned and the weeds had devoured all the flowers conquering the railing, invading every inch of the balcony, the porch, the windows on the ground floor and the front door. Everything was emanating a sense of foreboding and death. No one could see what existed inside because all possible entries were shut with padlocks. This house was abandoned for as long as he remembered and he had never seen anyone going in or coming out.

There had been stories among the people and mostly among the kids about hearing noises coming from the inside but he had never heard anything himself. No kid or grown up dared walk past the broken and rotted wooden fence circling it. However his fear did not stem from these stories because he always thought of them as superstitions, fantasies fabricated by the witches of old to scare the people.

He didn't know when or why he had developed such a fear but by now he had figured it couldn't be a good thing. So he kept it to himself and didn't talk about it to anyone.

But there was always something about this house that made his heart skip a beat each time he remembered or dreamed of it.

There had been many reasons for him leaving the small town so many years ago, and none of them had to do with this house. He never wished to return and he never thought he would one day come back willingly. It was when he started having the dream about the house again that he decided it was time to go back.

But this was going to be a journey he was not going to make alone.

This journey was going to be his most dangerous descent into the paths of darkness.

And there would be no margins for mistakes…

And no turning back.


	2. Chapter 1 A White Horse

**CHAPTER 1- A WHITE HORSE**

He couldn't remember when it all started or how he had gotten there. Everything had become a blur in his mind, rendering him incapable of separating truth from fiction, reality from dream.

"No man living or dead should have to walk the path you are about to take" the voice spoke from his left but John Cena didn't turn around to see who it was. Somehow it wasn't important to know. All that mattered was what he was being told. He knew he had to take the first step but his body was failing him.

For the first time in his life John felt truly scared.

He tried really hard to move but all he managed to do was twitch his right hand's fingers. His eyes were fixed on the sight in front of him.

The voice continued

"But you won't walk it alone."

He sensed the voice move behind him and when it spoke again, it came from his right.

"It is important to remember John. You have to remember"

And John tried. He really did try to remember because he somehow realized it was important to know once again. But his memory was failing him. The more he tried to recall the more it felt like trying to hold water with his bare hands. His memories just kept slipping through his fingers.

"I… I can't. I can't remember" he mumbled to himself but secretly hoping the voice would hear and help him.

"If you do not and will not remember then everything will fall and everyone will become HIS slave… everyone… the living AND the dead"

John looked at his hands and saw them shaking violently. It was then that his body followed. His legs began to feel weaker.

"I can't do this alone. Please… help me"

"I can't help you… not until you remember on your own. Then I will help you and you will know what you have to do"

John fell on his knees taking his eyes of his palms and turning his gaze towards the sight in front of him.

Up until know everything was blurry, like an image behind a thick grey veil. There was nothing he could see but shadows.

"Sometimes the answer to every question is the simplest one… all you have to do is take the first step… remove this veil that clouds your vision and you will know…"

The voice wasn't making any sense to him. John was still down, his palms had become fists that held his body tightly. The image was still blurry and he was fading fast. He had to see before the end.

"Don't give up John. Try… please" the voice begged. "I know it is hard… you have to be strong… Be strong John"

The voice wasn't commanding; it was begging and John found it comforting and soothing. He felt like an invisible hand was reaching deep into his mind and was giving him the force to try harder.

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Everything told him to stay like this, keep his eyes closed and never open them again… he knew it would be easier to deny what the voice was telling him, shake the responsibilities off of him and pass them onto to someone else.

Who was he in the end to take the burden of the world on his shoulders?

His mind commanded him to push everything away, just get up and walk away.

But his heart told him otherwise.

"What will you do John? Follow your mind or your heart?" the voice asked as though it knew exactly what was passing through John's mind.

It took all he had inside to open them again. This time John didn't look ahead. Instead he turned and looked behind him; looked towards the voice.

There was no one there but in a way he was not at all surprised.

"Why can't I see you? I know you are here with me. Please, let me see you"

He felt the voice smile and he knew it was closer to him than before; closer to him in body and in spirit.

"I want to see you… know if I can trust you. How can I trust you?" John asked.

"You can't see me yet. You won't be able to until you remember. Remove the veil from your eyes and all will become clear. Then you will see me and decide for yourself if you can trust me."

John looked ahead once more. The shadows were still there and the veil was always present. But something had started to change. But before he could see what that was John felt another presence near him. Only this one didn't feel comforting, but dark and ominous. It didn't speak to him; it didn't have to. This presence alone was enough to make him recoil and cower away. He could feel everything rotting in its passing and as it came close to him, John knew that he could trust the voice he was hearing, that he had to hurry before the new presence reached him.

"If you don't hurry, you will die" the voice advised. John sensed the urgency in it and mustered all his strength trying to ignore the oncoming death and look ahead once more.

Every muscle in his body felt like snapping and his head was splitting in half from a sudden headache.

As the darkness was surrounding him, approaching him fast, decaying all in its passing, John felt like he too was putrefying.

But he wouldn't go down without a fight.

He heard someone scream in the distance and he recognized the voice as his own. He didn't know how long he was screaming but the pain was only getting stronger. His eyes hurt but it didn't matter. He was going to try even if it was the last thing he would do.

And then it happened.

The veil was cast aside and the shadow was removed.

Pestilence was upon him now, he could almost feel it touching his cheek with its cold skeleton fingers… but John could only smile happily.

He had done it. He could see now.

"I can see it" he said. Pain shot through his right temple and knocked him down, limp. Still he was conscious with eyes open wide, and he couldn't stop smiling.

The voice was still there. It sounded happy.

"You have remembered. Can you see now?"

"Yes" John replied from the ground where he lay still limp and unable to move. His eyes were still fixed in front of him.

The image was disturbing but in a way he knew that this is what things were supposed to be.

Ahead in the distance was a field of green grass and in the middle of that field there was a white horse. It was lying on the ground, dying, with its head cocked backwards in its last moments of agony. In its eye there was a white arrow but no blood flowed. What should have been blood looked like black tar. The horse jerked violently one last time and silently died.

John knew that the voice was still with him and that if he turned he would be able to see to whom it belonged. But he had no strength left any more. His vision was blurring once more, only this time it was darkening.

He was dying too.

"John you can't stay here any longer or you will die. You have to wake up. You have to go back"

The voice became clearer and he finally knew that it belonged to a woman.

"You have to wake up. You have to return to the living and help them. Pestilence now knows who you are and it will try to find you among them. It will try to kill you… because you are the White Rider… WAKE UP…" the voice commanded.

John screamed one last time.

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When opened his eyes everything was dark. For a moment he couldn't tell where he was. He tried desperately to find the light but ended up falling on the floor.

He was unable to catch his breath. The dream he had had tonight was so vivid he could have sworn it was real. Finding the light, the room bathed in a faint yellow glow that managed to slow down his racing heart. The darkness had vanished leaving only strong shadows cast on the walls.

John sat on the floor and wiped away the sweat from his brow. His head hurt but it wasn't because of the fall from his bed. He managed to put his breathing under control and took a sip of water from the bottle sitting on the night stand.

He could still remember his dream; every detail, every word and every feeling; he found that strange because he rarely remembered his dreams. And this one had left him with more than a headache. It had really a strong effect on him as he couldn't suppress a feeling of danger.

The image of the dead white horse and the white arrow protruding from its eye passed from his memory and lingered there for a moment. The voice had told him he was the White Rider. He shook his head realizing how ridiculous these words sounded.

"White Rider…" he mumbled and stood up. "It was just a dream… nothing more… get a grip" he ordered himself.

He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the tap letting the cold water run. When he wet his hands trying to gather water to splash, he looked at his right palm.

It was red, the skin irritated as if he had been pulling rope. He let the cold water run and let it cool down his skin. It was only a few moments later when the irritation passed that he saw.

On the palm of his skin was a scar. One that looked old, as if it had been there for as long as he lived. It was the vague image of an arrow that traced his palm's 'life line'.

John blinked a few moments not believing what he was seeing. He closed his hand and held it close to his chest.

A familiar feeling of fright started to form in his heart. He didn't want to believe in his dream; reason told him it was wise to just forget it all and ignore the signs. So what was it that made him so scared? What was it that had made this scar in his palm?

Why was he so suddenly afraid of the shadows?

Alarmed John turned around expecting to find some kind of demon watching behind his back; but there was no one. And yet, he knew he wasn't alone. Whatever evil presence had threatened him in his dream it was in the room now. It was still weak and almost impossible to detect, but he knew it was there. He had felt it once and as long as he would live he would never forget what it felt like.

The fear that consumed him was more than he could handle. No light could chase away this terror from his heart. And no matter what he tried to tell himself, no matter what his mind told him, he somehow knew that this was real; real enough to scare him; real enough to make him want to run away.

And he was really surprised to realize that deep inside he knew who could give him some answers, help him figure this out and maybe help him fight.


	3. Chapter 2 A Red Horse

**CHAPTER 2- A RED HORSE**

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For those of you who don't know, Glen Jacobs is the real name of Kane.

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He was looking from his window outside. The streets of this city were always crowded and nobody seemed to sleep; much like himself. His massive form blocked most of the window's glass but the turned off lights in the room were rendering him invisible to the passers-by.

'It's better this way' he thought. He didn't want anybody seeing him tonight.

Tonight was a difficult night. Sleep beckoned him but no matter how tired he was, he wasn't going to fall asleep. Not tonight anyway. He might not be like his brother but there were a few things he had learnt from him. One of them was to never fall asleep in nights like tonight.

His mind drifted to his brother Mark and wondered where he could be. He hadn't seen him for a while, but that was nothing new. Mark was a special person, a gifted man.

'Gifted?' The word lingered for a while and Glen wondered if it was indeed the suitable word to be used in Mark's case. A smile passed quickly from his face but it left a sense of bitterness and of emergency behind.

'I wonder why that is?' Glen wondered. He expected to feel tonight the bitterness but he was not prepared for the emergency. Adrenaline started flowing from his heart and travel through his body.

He stepped away from the window and sat on the bed. It was unmade and the smell of old air and used sheets filled the room. Glen wished he could open the window.

'But not tonight'

He rubbed his face with his hands trying to chase away the sweat and the memories that came to him unwillingly.

Glen had grown up in a foster home. He had spent his childhood alone, in misery, in poverty, in hate and in violence. For the longest of time he thought he would never live to see the age of eighteen. Trying to live through the day had become such a struggle for him and it was all too much for a fifteen year old boy to bear.

Glen rose again to his feet and walked in the room desperately trying not to remember… trying to forget…

Forget the nights where his foster father would walk in the room when he was just a small child and sit by his side with a face all red from the excitement and lust. Forget all the times he touched him and violated him.

Forget the time he lost his innocence.

Glen shivered as he touched the cold window with his forehead.

He could never escape those memories and he knew that he would carry them like heavy luggage till the day he would die. But he had grown up to be a strong man in body and in mind.

All thanks to his brother Mark Callaway.

He could still recall the day like it was only yesterday. His foster father had paid him a midnight visit and had left Glen with a little more than a couple of bruises.

Young Glen, at sixteen years of age had nothing to live for.

He had managed to get up from his bed trying to ignore the pain that seemed to emanate from every muscle and opening the window, he stepped outside to the cold winter night naked, bruised and bloodied.

He had sworn that this had been the last time. He would never let anyone treat him like this again. Never would he allow such pain inside him. Shivering from the cold he walked for three hours until he reached the Keeper's cliff.

Keeper's cliff stood at the top of a mountain overlooking the small village where Glen had spent all his life. There was nothing but old rocks and splintered wood on that cliff and no tree or grass grew as far as his eye could see. Children had named it "keeper's cliff" because of the man that used to live there a long time ago. That man, a stranger, had come one day and settled in a small cabin. No one ever found out his name and he never spoke to anyone until the day he died. No one dared approach his cabin and no one dared speak to him. He used to stand on the edge of the cliff and look down on the village for hours on end. The name started from the children because despite the fear he provoked they said he was the keeper of the small town and as long as would be there, no harm would ever befall them.

And Glen wished there was some truth to this story even if the Keeper had died many years ago. There would be no chance his foster father would have treated him like this if the Keeper were alive today. He stepped to the edge of the cliff where the Keeper had stood once. He realized he couldn't feel the cold any more or the pain. He looked at his feet. The rocks and the dry wood had hurt the soles of his feet but still he felt like he was looking someone else's legs. He looked over the cliff to the small village he had come to loathe. The sky was completely black; even the moon had chosen to hide its face… even the moon had abandoned him.

Glen had made up his mind. He took one more step towards the edge. He didn't need to look down. He knew the fall was long and the sharp rocks that awaited him at the bottom would kill him instantly.

It was a small noise that stilled him; the sound of boots on rocks. He spun around terrified that his foster father might have found him but he was greeted by the form of a stranger. He was tall, young but still older than Glen, and wore a black leather coat. His black hat shaded his face but Glen could see a pair of eyes shining unnaturally in the night.

"Have you come to kill me?" he asked almost wishing it was the truth. Small rivers of tears rolled down his dirtied face and he took a step towards the stranger.

He man still stood immobile as if trying to decide what to do next. When he finally spoke his voice came out deep and truthful.

"I have come to save you"

The man took off his hat and let the young boy look at his face. He too had been crying. A sense of relief flooded Glen and for some strange reason he came near the dark man dauntlessly.

The dark man took of his coat and put it round Glen's shoulders.

And Glen surrendering to the man fell in his waiting arms.

The dark man accepted the young boy in his arms letting his heart fill with relief, love and determination.

"I am sorry it has taken me so long to find you… my brother"

…

His breath had misted the window and his forehead still touched the window. That night was the beginning of a different life for him. It hadn't been what he thought it would be at first and that was because of his brother Mark.

Glen never doubted that Mark was his true brother. He could feel it every time he was with him; feel that that there was something deep connecting them, bonding them together, in life.

And in death.

Mark never revealed much about himself or his past. To Glen his brother was and still remained a mystery. They had lived together for a long time and until Glen was ready to live on his own Mark had always been there to support, help and sometimes guide him.

It was after he went to live with Mark that the visions started. Glen thought them to be dreams but then they started to occur while he was awake. And they scared him because they were something more than dreams or daydreams. The images he was seeing frightened him as they seemed to blend with reality. Sometimes the visions were so vivid he would have difficulty separating them from life itself.

Young Glen was loosing his mind… fast…

He never told his brother but somehow he didn't need to. Mark knew. With a grim face and sadness in his eyes he just knew.

One silent night Glen's visions had shaken him to the core and he had woken up screaming for help. He had found Mark sitting on a chair next to the door waiting patiently, silently.

"I am sorry" Mark had spoken.

"For what?"

"For this. For you having to go through this… it's because of me that you are having these visions"

"I don't understand" Glen had stuttered.

Mark still sat on the wooden chair that somehow seemed too small for him.

"It is time" he had said and stood up. "Please follow me my brother"

Mark had walked out of the room and Glen obediently followed him to his room. On a table, there was a book, opened in a specific page.

"What is that book?"

"That book has the answer to what's troubling you. I found it for you"

"For me?"

In the darkness of the room Glen had missed seeing it at first. He had been so consume by his vision and the book that it was only then, under the strong moonlight that he saw Mark's face. Under the blood that covered almost all his face, there was a deep cut running from above his left eye all the way down to his cheek and neck.

"My God… are you hurt?"

"I'll be ok… most of this blood is not mine."

"What happened Mark?"

"Many things happened tonight… all because of you"

His voice hadn't hidden any spite or regret or hate… it had been filled with love. What he had spoken next changed Glen's life for ever.

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me Glen. I have spent my entire life looking for you and I regret that it has taken me this long to find you. But there are things about me that you don't know… that you must never know. What I am and what I have become wasn't my choice but I have come to accept it and use it for the best."

"For the best of what?"

"Mankind"

"I don't understand… please help me understand"

Glen had come close to the bed and sat beside his brother.

"There are things I can't tell you. Believe me I want to but I cannot. And that's what makes what I want say so hard… but you must believe me and try to understand"

Young Glen's eyes had become hard but caring, still fixed on his brother.

"Your visions they are your heritage. They are part of who you are, who you were born to be. I don't fully understand it myself but I have a feeling that when the time comes, you and I will be part of it. The visions you have been having will get worse with time. The book I brought you tonight says that they will start focusing on a certain event that's going to take place sometime in the future… provided that…"

"Provided what?"

"That you don't go insane. I am sorry brother; sorry that you have to carry that burden but you must fight it… learn to control it… and you have to find a way by yourself"

"Can't you help me?" Glen's voice had become desperate. "I can't do this alone… please"

"I am going to be here for you as long as you need me but there are few things I can do. Nobody else can. And I have my own cross to bear."

"What do you mean?"

"I have been through a lot in my life to find that book you see on the table. I have spent many years looking for it… people have died for it and I have killed for it… I have killed for you my brother… for us…"

Glen had walked to the table and taken a look at the book. It had been old, its pages yellow and the letters blood red forming words of a language he couldn't read. He had wanted to touch it but fear had stayed his hand.

"This is the Necronomicon. It's written in ancient Greek and its name means the 'Book of the Law of the Dead'. It describes, among things, how to summon the dead… and how to kill them. But… the reason I had been looking for it was because it contains a prophecy."

Mark's finger had searched the old pages searching for the verses. There, on an old dirty page among scribbling and faded words, Glen had read the prophecy for the first time.

'Four riders and four curses…

Four that are one and one that follows…

One for sickness…

one for slaughter

one for havoc

one for death.'

"I don't understand it" Glen had spoken having read the verses.

"It speaks of the apocalypse… the end of the world. According to the Bible before judgment day, the second coming of Jesus Christ on this earth, four horsemen shall come to destroy the earth and help the Fallen Angel, Satan, enslave all mankind. This is also mentioned in the Necronomicon. The book you see before you was well worth fighting for because it describes how they will come to destroy us… and that helps us figure out how we can stop them."

"Stop them?" Glen's voice was something more than a whisper.

Mark had shaken his head affirmatively. The next words young Glen had heard had changed his entire universe.

"You my brother are one of those meant to stop the horsemen."

…

Glen felt tired. Many years since that night had passed and still he was not sure he was totally sane. Visions still plagued him but with Mark's help and patience he had managed to focus and stop them.

But there were times where Mark would come to him and remind him that night. Glen had to spend most of his youth trying to figure out his vision, clear the images and keep the ones that mattered… the ones that would help him and his brother.

And there he was; a wrestler on the road many years later and still unable to sleep because he was afraid. It was kind of funny to be this grown up strong man that many had come to know as "Kane - the red machine" and still wish that Mark was there to comfort him. Yet he knew that when the time would come, his big brother would find him.

But tonight was indeed different. Glen had gone to sleep calm and almost happy, having forgotten his past, at least for this night. But unwillingly and forcefully his vision had returned and he had been unable to stop it.

And he saw it again.

He stood in a green field with bodies lying dead as far as the eye could see. The smell of rotting flesh was making him gag and the flames that burned in the distance gave the sky shade of blood red. He was yielding a sword with both hands and he was screaming. He couldn't tell if he was screaming in agony or in pleasure… but for the first time he knew the time was nigh. Because he turned his head to peer over his shoulder and saw a white horse looking straight at him defiantly.

Glen sighed. He picked up his phone and dialed hesitantly his brother's number.

"Brother?" Mark's voice sounded

"Mark… it is time. I saw the first one tonight. I saw the white one."

"Did you see who?"

"Yes. I saw the red flames and behind me the white horse… it is time to come out. We have to find the rest."

"Yes… we don't have much time left"

The line went dead. Glen looked out the window. The night was still young. He took a deep breath and wished again he could open the window and let the fresh air come in.


	4. CHAPTER 3 A Black Horse

**CHAPTER ****3-A BLACK RIDER**

The first thing they had taught Mark was to keep the windows closed.

He could vividly remember their voices echoing in his head even today, so many years later, teaching him that the lingering souls of the dead and of the damned found the way to people's souls through open windows. The windows of the houses were the windows to the souls of the living, especially those whose faces hell had taken a good look at.

Since he was a small child Mark knew he was different. He had seen the face of the dead, of the damned and even further beyond and he knew that hell had marked him. He had looked straight into the abyss and the abyss had looked back at him. There was no way out. Not any more.

He didn't remember much about his early years. He vaguely remembered walking alone in empty streets searching in vein for something or someone. He could distinctively recall however the eyes of his teacher as they found him crying in the corner of a dirty alley.

"Come with me Mark" he had said to him and the small child had taken his hand willingly, trustingly. "I will help you"

And he had helped him. He had taken him away from the streets far away to the desert where he spent his early years. But he hadn't been alone. In the house he lived in, he was never alone. Either by the eyes of his teacher or the eyes of those he couldn't see, he knew he was always being watched. Still, he was always filled with vast sadness and loneliness. He felt his heart was half and every night bitterness rose to his mouth.

The first few years, Mark was schooled by an old man in dark brown robes. He remembered his snow white long hair and beard, and he recalled his brown eyes looking deep into him as he taught him history, literature, mathematics and most importantly theology. He had never known any other kind of schooling, yet he knew that this was not what it was supposed to be like. The old man didn't stay long however. After three years, he left without a word of farewell. Mark remembered feeling hurt and angry at the old man whom as a young child had grown accustomed to having around and looking up to.

It wasn't until he was reaching the age of thirty when he was told that the old man had been killed many years ago by a demon in the desert; a demon that was trying to reach Mark.

The old man had died defending him.

"Why?" Mark had asked but received no answer.

The untimely and mysterious at the time death of the old man had marked the end of the theory and the beginning of practice and hardship for little Mark. The same man that had found him in the alley had come and picked him up. This time, Mark didn't seem so trusting. He might have even cried a little leaving the desert behind. He could still remember the two storey house looming on the top of a small hill in the night sky as the car drove away.

The years that followed Mark had stopped trying to forget them a long time ago. It was impossible to do so. The scars ran too deep to ignore. He wished at least the memories would blend in together, mix, so that he could not separate each one; but he could recall each and every one of them. He could recall every beat his heart had skipped, every bone he had broken, every muscle he had torn and every tear he had shed. Verses, epistles, bibles, prophecies, numbers, dead languages, words, letters, books famous and forgotten, popular and forbidden, all in his mind, all together forming thoughts, wishes, rights and obligations he must follow and rules he must obey.

Some nights the burden of knowledge was so heavy for his shoulders but something inside him told him it was supposed to be this way. Maybe it was because he had looked into the seductive eyes of hell that he knew that he was special; that he was the one to guide the rest through the destruction that would follow.

…

The first time he had seen a demon, he was twelve years old.

His teacher at the time had taken him in a small empty room and without warning had locked him inside, alone. The sun outside was just setting and the orange taint of the sun rays were shedding the last light inside the room by the small window. Mark tiredly was sitting against the wall looking at the window. His face was trying to gather the last rays and warm himself up. He didn't cry. He had stopped crying a long time ago. He was just sitting in the corner of the room waiting patiently for something he didn't know.

Soon the sun set and the sky began to darken fast. Blue had become orange and now orange was becoming dark blue… then darker still until it was black. Mark kept his eyes fixed on the window. Inside him he prayed it would remain closed. But then he heard footsteps and a cloaked man came from outside and opened it.

Mark sprung to his feet as a new kind of fear invaded his heart and made his muscles tremble.

"No…" he screamed and walked close to the window. But it was too high up to reach. "Please… close the window… please" the young boy begged. The cloaked figure looked at him and then mercilessly walked away without a word.

By now Mark had learnt all there was to learn about open windows, damned souls, demons and demon hunters; but seeing that window open and having the door locked from the outside was enough to scare him into numbness. He walked to the door and started banging it.

"Master… please let me out. Don't leave me alone. The window is open… master? Can you hear me?" he yelled for his teacher, for someone, anyone, to hear him but not a single sound came from the other side and Mark realized he was alone. He would have to face this night by himself and either survive or die trying.

He didn't have to wait long. As soon as he managed to get his heart rate under control a gust of burning hot wind blew from the window and filled the room. His heart told him to cower away and hide as best as he could in the darkest corner of this dungeon but his mind told him to step forward into the brightest spot of the room and face his fear.

But he was still just a little boy. So when the wind became hotter to the point where he couldn't breathe he knew something was coming. Sure enough a few moments later he heard a noise coming from the window, a terrifying noise, like bones breaking and children weeping. The air grew thicker by the minute and just when Mark thought he couldn't take it any more, everything stopped dead. The window still stood above wide open and Mark remained still, waiting.

Fog crept slowly inside, like an early morning mist. But this one was black and foul. With its passing, everything seemed to rot and all hope vanished. Mark retired to the darkest corner of the room and fell to his knees hopelessly. The mist slowly came inside and gathered in the middle of the room where it started to liquefy into black tar. Soon the black tar began to rise and grow, acquire volume. A deep growl emanated from the bowels of the earth giving the black form breath and bones.

Mark could only sit and stare in fear and in awe as the transformation was completed and before him stood an ethereal figure. The wraith had no face but two red holes where his eyes ought to be.

It turned and looked at Mark and that's when he saw it; what the wraith was holding; a pair of balances. The ghost stretched its clothed hand and hovered the balance in front of the wide scared eyes of the small child. On one side of the balances a cross was carved while on the other was a reversed cross. Mark new these symbols. The first was the symbol of God and the other stood as a mockery to God. The reverse cross was one of the symbols of the Fallen Angel, of hell.

Then he heard someone speak but it wasn't the wraith. The voice seemed to come from within him and only he could hear it speak.

"You are one of the four? Finally you have come forth… the time approaches for you all to reveal yourselves to me and bow down to my glory."

The balances moved and the side of the reversed cross began to scale in its favor. Mark felt pain in his hand. He looked and his right arm and his heart sank in agony. It was rotting. It was diseased, plagued and it was spreading. The voice laughed loudly and the glass from the window broke into specks of dust.

"Kneel before me and I will spare the life of your brother, black one"

If there was a moment where Mark felt helpless and hopeless, it was long gone at the mention of a brother, his brother.

All this time, all this pain that resided in his soul for so long, finally he knew what its cause was. The other half of his desolate heart, the part of his life he was missing was his brother. And it all made sense to him; finally he knew why he cried himself to sleep every night; he knew he would never be whole without him and he knew what he had to do. He sensed the voice enrage inside him and he smiled triumphantly. Whoever was speaking to him had just made a fatal error.

He had given Mark the missing part of himself. He had shown him he wasn't going to be alone in this fight.

With an utterly infuriating shriek the voice left Mark realizing the stupid mistake it had made. The small boy looked again at the balance and smiled when he saw it tilt on favor of the cross. The wraith was beginning to melt again into black tar and the disease from his arm was gone.

The receding ghost had become once again a black mist and the small boy was expecting it to withdraw, leave from the window where it had come in.

But he was wrong. Hot wind blew again cutting his air and Mark fell back against the wall holding his neck. The black mist didn't back away, instead it attacked full force. It enveloped him, wrapping its long gaseous tentacles around his small fragile body and squeezed.

Every breath he tried to take was a struggle consuming his strength. The mist was feeding off of him, off his fear and his soul; it was eating away his hope and his faith. His surroundings started to blur and fade to black. His body went limp and his eyes couldn't see anything any more. The only thing he could feel were his insides as they died away. He tried to focus his thoughts to his brother, he tried to image where he could be, what he will look like. He wondered if he knew where Mark was, if he knew he had a brother… if he was in so much pain like him.

Before loosing his senses he heard the door open and footsteps running towards him

…

It was one of the rare times that Mark saw the sun rise. The last time he had watched it rise when he was twelve, the morning after he had seen the wraith. Since then he had spent his entire life in the dark, in the night, and never under the sun. But this day was different. He could feel it and he knew that Glen knew it too. It was his brother that had the gift of foresight. So when he received the phone call late last night, he was not surprised to hear his brother telling him that what he feared and had been preparing for all his life was finally at hand.

Still all he could think about where the words of his teacher; he had told him that though the sun seemed like a friend, though it might be able to warm him up and lift up his hopes, it also cast the longest of shadows.

'Once, my own teacher had told me that the sun exists to remind us of hell' he had told Mark. Mark could not once understand these words. But the older he got the more sense they seemed to make to him. He had learnt to stay away from the sun and he had learnt to kill his desire to see it rise or set.

Suddenly a memory long forgotten came back, words he had let escape him all these years for they made not sense to him a the time… and his heart sank deeper than ever before.

The image of a man he hadn't seen since the night of his first trial with the wraith returned to him. He was a relatively young man, his beard black as ink and his eyes dark as the starless night. He had come to young Mark as he was watching the sun rise and had sat beside him. His white robes flowing with wind were in complete contrast with his ebony hair, but his skin was fair. Mark doubted he had seen a man since who held a gentler gaze.

This man had come near him and looked straight into the sun. Young Mark looked at him in awe. The man didn't look at him. Instead he spoke words that Mark had forgotten all those years.

"I'm sorry for all you have to go through. I'm sorry it fell onto your shoulders… but know that of all the people you are going to meet in your long life, you are the only one strong enough…"

He raised his hand and pointed at the sun and the sky over the horizon.

"Look at the sun, enjoy it today because the next time you see it, it will mean the world is coming to an end."

Mark felt his knees buckle under the burden of this memory and had to lean against the wall for support. He knew all his training and knowledge was to prepare him and teach him to fight against evil. And he had done so many times before. He had lost count of the times he had battled spirits and demons of the ancient world and he couldn't begin to count the scars he carried, some more visible than others; but knowing that the end of the world was at hand and that he was the one to lead the others into certain death was something he was really not prepared to deal with.

How could he have forgotten so important words? Who was that man? Mark had never seen him since that morning. Thinking about the end always made him feel strange. He wasn't afraid, he was never afraid of the end and neither of the devils. But for some reason, his heart refused to accept it and it always tighten in his chest.

['Why can't you deal with it?'

'I don't want to, teacher'

'I don't think you have a choice child. Both sides have chosen you; both good and evil know who you are'

'But I want to see my brother. He said I have a brother. I have to be with him. I feel he needs me. I feel he is in pain'

'If you go away now child, you will die'

'I don't care'

'Your brother will die too… you know sometimes we don't choose our destiny, but it is thrust upon us and gives us no choice but to follow it no matter where it leads us']

Words and memories seemed to come to him as he tried to make sense of it all. These words were spoken to him by one of his teachers, the one young Mark loved the most, the one who he could always trust for the truth.

The one he had killed ten years ago.

Mark shook his head chasing away the memories. These memories were a story for some other night and brooding over bad ones was not helping him at all.

A knock at the door brought him back to reality.

As his brother walked inside, Mark didn't say a word. Neither did Glen. They didn't need many words to understand each other. He sat on a chair and looked at the window and at the sun now almost fully risen. Mark came and kneeled in front of him placing his warm hand on his brother's knee comforting him.

Glen was sad and he might even have been crying a while ago, though he was too proud to do so at this point.

"I don't think I can do it brother" he told Mark.

"We don't have a choice. I don't want to either, but this world will be destroyed if we don't do it"

Glen shook his head. He looked into Mark's eyes and his chest heaved in agony.

"Do you know who the others are?" Mark asked

"Yes" Glen whispered. "Almost"

"Almost?"

"John Cena is for the white rider. I am for the red rider. You are for the black rider"

Glen stopped. He looked at the sun and it blinded him. Then he stared at his brother's eyes.

"Have you seen the pale rider? Who is for the pale rider?"

"Dave Batista is for the pale rider. That much I can see as clear as daylight. But there is one face that is hidden from me and no matter how much I try, I cannot see him"

"Hell!" Mark spoke and rose to his feet. He walked to the window and closed the curtains bathing the room in shade.

"I am sorry Mark but I cannot see who follows the Pale Rider. Hell's face is refused from me. I have tried to but all I see is a small bird." Glen rubbed his temples as a headache was beginning to form. "What will we do?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Why? I thought we had to gather everyone for this. Who will be for 'Hell'? We have to have the fifth with us."

"And we will have him in time"

"How?"

"He will come forth"

"If I can't see him, do you think he will get a dream or a vision or a sign like the others? I thought he was the one who had to be told from us. The one who will battle "Hell" doesn't know it unless the four of us know it"

"Yes it is so, and when all four of us gather again in this room, Dave is the one who will tell us who he is"

"Do you think he will know"

"Oh yes… when the moment comes, the pale warrior will choose his weapon without hesitation"

"Without hesitation" Glen repeated.

"Now my brother, go while it is still daylight and bring them all here"

Glen got up and was opening the door when his brother's voice stopped him.

"Glen… bring them before midnight"

Glen left nodding his head, his face a mask of determination.

Mark watched as the door closed and was left in his room alone.

"The time has come teacher. Like you said" he spoke to the shady room. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. "I won't fail you. Not this time"


	5. CHAPTER 4 A PALE HORSE part 1

**CHAPTER 4-A PALE HORSE**

It had started to rain sometime during the night. In the beginning the rain was soft, slow and barely detectable from the closed windows of the hotel room and he didn't hear it in his sleep. But then the wind picked up pace and the rain began to fall with much force soon escalating to a thunderstorm.

When a thunder fell too close to the hotel and rattled the window's glass, Dave opened his eyes startled. At that precise moment came a knock on his door making him turn his head abruptly towards it in surprise.

Not giving himself time to think he got up from his bed and made his way to answer the door. He wasn't expecting anyone in particular but the sight of Kane's figure standing unmoving in front of him was enough to wake him up.

There were no pleasantries. Glen spoke first and his voice came out rough and distant.

"You must come with me"

Dave blinked and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Is there something wrong?"

Glen looked him back with a mixture of anger and despair.

"Yes" he simply said.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't have time to explain. We must meet Mark before midnight. Come on hurry… before it is too late"

"Late? For what? Glen what the hell is going on?" Dave asked not happy about being awakened in such a manner.

"Hell…" Glen repeated. "That is exactly what is going on… Come on get dressed…"

Dave didn't move.

"Trust me… you will understand when we get there"

Dave turned and started to unwillingly get dressed.

"This better not be some sort of prank from you guys or I swear you'll regret it"

"I really wish this was a joke" Glen answered absent minded.

In a few moments Dave was ready and they were already on their way to Glen's car outside the hotel.

"Where are we going?" Dave asked while they were in the elevator going down.

"We are going to meet with Mark. But first we have to pick up someone else for the second floor."

"Who?"

The elevator doors opened with the distinctive clear sound of a small bell.

"Cena" Glen stated and walked out of the elevator leaving Dave a few paces behind.

"John is in this too? Why?" Dave wasn't sure this was the right question to ask but he asked it anyway and followed Glen waiting for an answer. But before he could get one, Glen was already knocking on John's bedroom door.

The door opened suddenly almost at the first knock. John was already dressed and ready to go. His eyes were wide open with many shades of fear covering his face.

"I was expecting you. I am ready to go" he said and closed the door behind him.

Dave was left speechless but followed the two without posing any more questions. He was sure this was a joke, a prank played to him by the others. He would play into this to wherever it would lead him.

….

They entered the car and Dave rode in the back. Glen was never the talkative type and John was the exact opposite. What got him thinking was that difference. He could imagine John being part in a prank but as far as he could remember, Glen was never part of any joke. He was friendly enough backstage and easy to go on, not posing any problems inside or outside the ring, hanging out with his brother mostly. John Cena on the other hand was really friendly with everyone and anyone, a loud mouth but not a jerk, a little eccentric for his taste in clothes and in music but no one was perfect. He was fun to be around and there was never an uncomfortable silence when John was around.

Which is exactly what made this ride strange.

Dave smiled when at about twenty minutes into the long drive to Mark, John spoke to Glen.

"How did you know it was me?"

Glen didn't answer immediately. He was thinking of the best way to give his reply without spooking the two passengers. He grasped the steering wheel harder trying to form a phrase that would satisfy him. But being a man of few words made it difficult to find the right ones. In the end he opted for the simple one.

"I had a vision"

"A vision?" Dave asked half surprised half amused.

"Yes. I knew that Mark and I were two of the four but I didn't know who the other were. Tonight I got a vision, sort of a dream. That's when I knew it was you two I had to find."

Glen turned briefly and looked at John who sat beside him.

"She said I am the white rider" Cena stated and Dave couldn't figure out what they were talking about. Glen nodded.

"I know. I am the red rider and Mark is the black"

"So it is true then what I think…" John sounded genuinely scared. "When I woke up I couldn't get her words out of my head. She told me I am the white rider. I tried to think what she meant until I remembered my dream… this feeling that killed me…"

Glen turned and looked at him surprised and angry.

"It tried to kill you? Already?"

"Yes…" John's chest was heaving from fear. "Pestilence… I saw the white horse die from an arrow… an arrow that came from a bow Glen… it was that which gave me an idea what it was all about. When I woke up I looked in the night stand drawer and found a bible. And then I knew that you or Mark would come…"

John turned and looked at Dave who still sat in amazement, still unable to understand what was happening.

"I am sorry… this might sound stupid to you… but could you stop the car so I can get out? I've had enough of this joke…"

"Listen to me..." Glen's voice cut him off. "This is not a joke… Have you really had no strange dreams lately? No dreams at all?"

"Well, this might come as a surprise to you two but I am human, you know, and not a real animal… of course I have dreams" Dave answered angrily.

"What dreams?" Glen insisted. "Tell me what you were dreaming about when I woke you up tonight…"

"What does it matter?"

"It does matter… more than you know… please tell me. It is important"

"This is really stupid…"he mumbled. "Alright… let me think… I was dreaming of a bird."

"What kind of bird?"

"A small one… look what does it matter? It was dead anyway when I dreamt it"

"Dead?" John asked

"It was lying on a balance, on side of the reversed cross" Glen answered instead.

"How did you know?" Dave could not understand how Glen could have known his dream in such a detail. Especially one he had just one time and he himself could not completely remember.

"Did you see anyone else in this dream?" he continued ignoring the question.

"Um… no… I don't remember…."

"Shit" Glen cursed. "I thought you might know"

"Know what? Guys please explain because I really have no idea what you are talking about and you are creeping me out"

Glen didn't answer not even when Dave asked his question again.

"We are almost there" he simply said a few minutes later

The rest of the drive was a silent as the first part. Dave was beginning to feel a little worried. His gut was telling him this wasn't just a prank.

John turned his head and looked outside. The night was getting darker and darker. They had driven outside the city limits and it seemed to him that the rain was getting stronger and stronger. The car lights were illuminating the trees on the edge of the streets. They looked like they were battling with the wind. What bothered him in this was the ease with which he had accepted his dream and his unknown upcoming fate.

The road kept going straight for miles on end to the next state but they did their stop to a motel by the road side.

"We are here" Glen told them and got out of the car. Both men followed him to the far right room of the motel. Glen knocked on the door twice before it opened.

Mark greeted them with a stern look on his face that made John feel like eight years old. In silence they all entered the room and sat down, Dave and John on one bed, Glen on the other, Mark in a chair by the door. All curtains were drown closed and the only light illuminating the room was the lamp by the bed.

"Dave doesn't know yet. He's had the dream, but it's incomplete" Glen directed his comment to Mark who lifted his head and looked at them.

"John has seen the dream and he knows he is the white rider."

"Alright, I've heard this one before…" Dave said mockingly. "Kane over here is the red rider and you are the black rider… we've been through this in the car and nobody bothered explaining anything to me. I saw a dream tonight but I just don't see what the big deal is… I mean, I just saw a dead bird on a balance"

Mark stood up angrily looking at his brother.

"You never said it was a dead bird."

Glen just nodded.

"I didn't know at the time."

"Which side of the balance was it on?"

"The wrong side... Dave woke up before the end of the dream"

"They are trying to stop us before it's even began"

"Mark…he has no idea who the fifth is"

"He doesn't even know who he is supposed to be. Once he knows then he will tell us who the last one is"

"What the hell is going on? I am right here. Stop talking like I am not present. Mark?" Dave had by now stood up and was facing the two brothers.

"We can't tell you. You have to find out by yourself. Once you know then things well become clearer" Mark said.

"OK… I'll play along" Dave said half smiling. "What do I have to do?"

"John… get up from the bed. Dave, please lay down."

Obediently John stood and joined Glen on the other bed. Dave lay on the bed and rested his head on the hard pillow.

"Now what? This isn't very comfortable"

Mark reached inside his coat's pocket and took out a brown leather pouch. He took out a handful of what looked like black dust.

"I want you to relax. I am going to help you sleep so you can have the dream again. This time you won't be able to wake up until it ends. You will be alone and I won't be able to help you should you need it."

"OK" Dave said hesitantly

"This is important to remember. You may encounter things that might try to hurt you or worse, kill you. You have to keep your eyes open and your mind focused. You cannot be distracted by anything."

"How will I know that the dream has ended?"

It was Glen's time to respond.

"The dream ends when you take the bird in your hands"

"If you had the same dream as me, then why do I have to see it?"

"I can only 'see' the dream. When you have it, only you can give it its true meaning. I know the surface but only you can reach the bottom."

"This is going to hurt isn't it?"

Mark brought the black powder in front of Dave's face.

"Yes" he said and blew the powder.

Then everything went dark.


	6. CHAPTER 5 A PALE HORSE part 2

**CHAPTER 5-A PALE HORSE (ii)**

He felt his face burning. Hot fire was running from his nose down to his neck and was travelling fast inside his entire body. Instinctively he lifted his hands and clasped his face, only to realise he was no longer lying on the bed. He was standing in the middle of another room. Its walls were white, whiter than anything he had seen so far.

'Disturbingly white' was the expression that came to his mind.

He removed his hands from his face and saw them red. His nose was bleeding but somehow the sense of danger that was starting to envelop him, made it unimportant. He took one quick look around him and there was no window, no door… nothing but white. It was hard to discern the point were the floor and the wall connected… it felt like he was a presence in the middle of nothingness.

He took one step forward. He titled his head to the left stretching his senses. There was no sound; his moving body made no sound. He couldn't even hear his own respiration.

'Don't you know?' a faint voice told him in his head, startling him. Somehow the voice sounded familiar.

'Sound doesn't travel though the vacuum… you are in the void…'

Dave knew he had to find a way out. The burning in his body was only getting stronger. He wanted to curse Mark for blowing that powder in his face, but he refrained from it remembering all that talking he had heard about riders, pestilence and dead horses. Somehow it felt inappropriate.

He looked again at his hands, still red from the blood. He brought them again to his nose and wiped it anew. More droplets gathered in his palm and in a second, his mind cleared and he knew what he had to do.

He opened his fingers and let the droplet of blood fall. When the droplet hit the ground, Dave heard the sound of thick blood hitting a large pool of the same liquid. The sound was faint at first but it seemed to grow with every passing moment. As the sound grew in volume, it mutated, it changed. Dave started to hear children cries, chains dragging and people screaming in pain.

Fear was consuming him. Dave had known fear in his life and he had experienced it. So when he felt its cold hands gripping his heart, he was able to identify it immediately. He was a man, who had few fears in reality, but those he had, they were numbing. And this fear was the worst he had.

Death…

Still looking down on his hands, he saw the floor fill up with blood… more and more seemed to ooze out of nowhere. The sound still kept getting louder and louder and he could only back away from it all. He knew if he remained there, he would only end up dying.

He had to overcome his fear.

He remembered when he was a small boy, he had seen in the house a big spider. He was terrified and had gone running to his mother for help. She had told him that fear is a powerful thing. He would have to learn to live with his fears and not let them break him. She had forced little Dave face the spider. She had told him he had two choices; either kill it or grab it and throw it outside in the garden. Dave remembered sitting in the room looking at the spider for almost an hour before finding the courage to grab it and throw it away.

This was no different. He had to face his fear of death like he had done with the spider. He would have to face it. The fear would probably never go away, but he wouldn't let it break him.

As the sound was reaching the point of panic, Dave screamed and jumped in the blood.

He didn't hear his scream.

'Sound doesn't travel in the vacuum'

He didn't hear the sound his body made as it hit the blood and started to sink inside a bottomless abyss. He realised he had little time. Fear or not, dream or not, he still had to control his fear and calm down. It was hard to do as the thick dark red liquid enveloped him and felt it enter his ears, nose and mouth.

But it was important. He had begun this journey on purpose and he had to see it to its end. The look on his friends' faces had told him it was necessary for him to come here. He had to find the bird… he had to find out what was going on.

The thought of the dreamed dead bird gave him the encouragement he wanted. He knew he had to find it alive and save it. He somehow knew that this small bird held the key to whatever this was.

So he relaxed his body and let it linger for a while. He didn't panic when he felt himself sink deeper. In a sense it was what he wanted. Up there, in the whiteness, there was nothing he wanted.

He let his body go and embraced his descent. His eyes remained closed but relaxed his eyelids and removed the feared frown from his brow. When he let out his last breath and no more oxygen remained in his lungs, he opened his eyes expecting to die.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

The light was almost unbearable. There was no more blood and no more death. He could brow breath and feel life flow in him once again. He closed his eyes and let them slowly adjust to the light surrounding him.

When he opened them a second time it was easier. He stood in the middle of a field of green grass. In the distance there was a dead white horse. He remembered John speaking about a dead white horse and an arrow. The one protruding from its eye made him certain this was the horse John was talking about. It was long dead and half eaten from other beasts and decay.

He had no wish to go near it. His goal was different. This dead horse wasn't the thing he was supposed to find. He stepped away and turned to the left.

The moment he turned, the setup changed completely. In front of him was a huge red fire. It consumed everything. Dave saw entire cities burn, people become ash and animals perish in the flames. A big two handed sword was stuck in the ground in front of all the chaos and the blade was glowing from the heat. Dave took a step back away from the vision. The heat was too much and he was glad in a way that this wasn't his burden to bear.

No… this was Glen's and it was his vision of him being the Red Rider.

Dave turned his back and looked away. He knew now that what he saw was the visions the others had. It was a bizarre process he had to go though. He had to look at the other's dreams in order to come to his own and complete it.

So when he turned away fro Glen's vision he knew he was going to come face to face with Mark's, and that thought was terrifying.

Strangely enough, he didn't see death or anything morbid. The light became dimmer and the wind cooler and he felt like he was underground, perhaps in a tomb or a cave. The air smelled old and the ground on his feet soft. For the first time, he wanted to take a step forward but didn't.

'This is not your path to take' the faint voice told him and again he thought that this voice was so familiar to him to the point it got frustrating. He started turning his gaze away when he saw in the distance a small yellow light illuminating a corner. He stopped just for a second to look at what it was revealing.

Dave realised that Mark's vision was of a cave because the light was illuminating wet rocky walls. On the ground was a pair of balances and he sighed in relief when he saw they were empty.

And that was a good thing because in his dreams Dave had seen the bird dead on those very same pair of balances. Maybe he still had some time left. He had to find that bird and soon. He turned away expecting to find himself in another vision but nothing happened. He was still standing in the middle of that cave with no apparent way out.

Confused, Dave looked quickly around and as before there was no escape. The only thing visible was the balance. Water was dripping in the distance and its echo was reaching his ears. He walked towards the balance, wanting to take a closer look at it. From a distance they looked empty but now he could clearly see a dangerous looking black substance pooling in both sides. The air near the balance smelled foul and deadly. If his dream was right, then this was poison and the bird would die from drinking that poison. He had to get rid of it and quickly.

Suddenly his head began hurting. It was a sharp pain that emanated from behind his eyes making him close them in agony. He reached out his hand still willing to tilt the balance and spill the poison but his pain only grew making his hand reach back and grab his head in a desperate attempt to soothe the ache.

Like iron claws were digging inside his head, Dave felt his body give up and fell back. It total agony, he twisted his body in a foetal position.

"Mark" he yelled… "Wake me up"

He pleaded but as promised, Mark was unable to assist. Not before the end. And the end was near, but there was still some way to go yet. A really painful way…

Despite the pain that invaded every part of his senses, he heard a different sound and out of place from this cave. A sound he didn't expect to find there; the sound of flapping wings and chirping.

"No" he whispered when he saw a small bird coming down from the light towards the balance. He had to stop it or it would die. Fighting through the pain, he reached his hand towards the bird and the balance but it was still a couple of feet away.

And the bird didn't seem to notice him.

"No" he screamed this time and started crawling. The bird flew once around the balance and landed on one side. It sat and looked at Dave, for the first time acknowledging his presence in the cave. Dave stopped his scream and once again sound ceased; not his own breath, not the wind blowing inside the cave, not the water dripping… only the sound of the bird could be heard.

The light revealed the colours of the bird's feathers. Every feather had a different colour, and all was put together in such poetry. The bird looked at him with its big green eyes and lowered its head to drink from the liquid in the balance.

"Jeff… Nooooooo"

Dave's scream tore the void and the bowels of the dreamland before loosing consciousness.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

"Hey… wake up" John's voice brought him to his senses. Dave blinked a few times and focused on the face above his own. John sat back down on the other bed and looked at Mark.

"You found him" Glen spoke from a distance.

"Well?" Cena asked. "Who is it?"

All looked at Dave who by now was sitting up wiping his face from the sweat.

"Jeff Hardy" Glen spoke when he saw that Dave made no effort in responding.

Silence.

"Mark…" Dave asked breaking the silence. "Why couldn't I stop the bird from drinking the poison?"

"What poison?"

"The one in the set of scales… in the cave…"

"Hold on" Mark interrupted. "You were in the cave?"

"Yeah… at first I saw John's place with the horse, then Glen's fire with the sword and then your cave. I was expecting to see my dream, but I couldn't leave. Then the bird flew in and…"

"And then what?" Mark asked impatiently and little surprised by the sound of his voice.

"I tried to stop it but I couldn't. I was in pain. The bird sat on one side of the scales and drank the poison. Then I think I woke up."

"You said you were in pain. Were did it hurt?" Glen asked.

"My head… my eyes… and behind them… it felt like I was going blind… I felt like I was loosing my mind"

"Shit" Glen cursed and turned his back on the others to hide his expression.

"What? What?" John asked alarmed by Glen's reaction. "What does it mean?"

Nobody answered. Glen was still facing away from the others and Dave was still on the bed exhausted from his ordeal. Mark looked a second longer at Dave and then closed his eyes. John was scared to realise that the look on Mark was something resembling to surprise because in his mind, Mark was the one who knew things and planned ahead. What Dave had told them was obviously unexpected.

"What are we going to do now?" Dave asked.

Mark stepped further away from the bed and started gathering his things.

"Now we fight… and pray to God that Hell hasn't already found its way to Jeff"


	7. CHAPTER 6 HELL

**CHAPTER 6-HELL**

He was waking in the middle of a boulevard… an empty boulevard, in the middle of the day. He couldn't remember or figure out what city this was and he had no idea how he had gotten there. There were no people around, no cars, no noise but the sound of the wind between the tall buildings. He looked around him still unwilling to move and still not fully realising where he was or what he was doing. The surprise of him being there was so great that it had rendered him numb. The hot sun was in the middle of the sky indicating it was noon or a little after. He looked up at it but as it always happened, it was too bright to look at.

'Pity' he thought. He always wished he could see the sun with his bare eyes but no matter how much he tried, it was always too bright to look at. He covered his eyes with his hand and looked up just in time to see a colourful bird fly above his head and land by the side of the street, behind a dumpster.

Jeff Hardy took a few steps that brought him closer to the dumpster. From the close distance he could hear a ticking sound. Hesitantly he peaked and looked behind the dumpster.

The small bird was pecking an eye. There was no corpse just an eye and it turned Jeff's stomach to realise that this was probably human. The contrast of such a beautiful small bird having its beak stuck in a human eye all bloodied and disgusting, was weird and revolting. His face twisted in revulsion and retreated.

He stepped on the pavement on other side of the street putting some distance between him and the bird. He looked at the stores. They all were open, with doors ajar and their wares on display but still no one was around. It was like everyone had left abandoning their things and dropping them carelessly on the ground. Jeff resisted the urge to yell for someone. Instead he walked to a store with TV's. Nothing was showing but static. There must have been at least fifty televisions, and every one was showing static. He went to leave but his refection caught his eye. He hadn't seen it until now. He was almost naked, wearing nothing but his underwear. He knew he had to feel uncomfortable but somehow he didn't. There was something however that disturbed him in his image. And that was the colour of his tattoos.

For some reason they had lost their original colour and they were dark red. He looked at his arm to check for himself.

'This would probably be a good time to panic'

He back stepped in the middle of the boulevard still looking at his arm. He had to let the sun shed its rays on his tattoos. He had to see them under the sun…maybe the shadows had played his mind some twisted trick and he was imagining things. His fingers travelled his arm, feeling the intricate patterns.

No, the shadows had played no tricks. His tattoos were red. Furiously Jeff started rubbing and scratching them. A scream escaped his lips and his eyes darkened with fear.

His arms, his tattoos were bleeding. The tattoos had become second veins embedded on his skin and as he scratched them they hurt like he was pulling out his veins with his own hands. His mind screamed at him to stop but for a while he couldn't. His fear and surprise had rendered him momentarily dumb and deaf to any reason.

Suddenly from the bowels of the darkest alleys of the city, a cool wind blew, a wind the seemed in its passing whisper his name. It was faint, almost undetectable, but he caught it. His fingers stopped their frantic movement and he lifted up his head startled by the sound of his name echoing between the buildings of the empty city.

He still kept his bloodied nails in his wounded arms but he was ignoring the pain. He had decided that again his mind was playing tricks by making him hear things that didn't exist. Still, he fell silent and waited just in case he heard it again.

'There…' he thought as the cool wind blew once more. It was just as faint as the first time, but he was sure this time. Someone had to be calling him and the wind was carrying their voice. For some reason, he had to find the source… like a feeling gnawing him, like a deep trance he started walking towards the sound.

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He had no idea how long he had been walking. Time at this point was irrelevant. The boulevard was endless and the buildings all the same, yet different. The open doors of the huge shopping centres seemed to be mocking him; half inviting him to enter, half chasing him away with their lifelessness.

If there was a chance to enter, the cool wind that carried his name wasn't going to let him have it.

He had stopped scratching his arm and the bleeding had ceased but he refused to let go of his arm. He felt that if he did, then the veins would come undone and fall on the ground like dirty ribbons.

'Jeff' the wind blew from between two building on his right and he turned facing them unable to explain why his breath had stopped. He looked at the alley where he knew he had to walk into, but suddenly he didn't want to. He wished he wasn't so alone. He wished his brother was with him.

He felt sad.

Alone.

Abandoned.

And cursed.

He looked at himself. His once white underwear had become red from the blood and was now stuck painfully from his skin. He pitied how he had become. He looked again into the distance towards the sound and the wind. His breath was starting to speed up as if he was running very fast. Supported by this sudden rush of adrenaline, he took the first step ahead.

He half expected for something to happen while he was taking the first step, but nothing did. He curiously looked around him once more, just in case someone was there, but again… no one. From that point on, taking the second and the third step was easy. It was when he took the fourth step that lead him to the large shadow between the huge buildings that he began changing his mind.

He wanted to turn back… no longer wished to follow the wind that carried his name. For a moment he actually turned around determined to walk away. But as soon as he turned, he saw the same bird he had seen before land in the open door of an abandoned car. He stopped dead on his tracks and stared at it.

It looked back. Its eyes, red as blood… red as the blood caked on his arm… red as the unnatural colour of his tattoos. Jeff felt a shiver run down his spine and for some reason he new that the bird wouldn't let him back away. The bird for a moment flapped its wings as if it was preparing to fly away and opened its beak but neither happened.

Jeff didn't see it fly away nor heard its voice. Its posture was intimidating and despite its small size, he didn't want to get close to it. Behind him the shadow and the wind awaited and he knew then and there, that there was no turning back now.

The loneliness and the emptiness were devouring his will and strength. Suddenly he felt so tired… so exhausted. The city seemed endless and the sun unforgiving. The cool wind that carried his name was no longer welcome.

'Jeff… come to me' the voice sounded again this time a little louder.

"Who is this? Who are you?" he asked out loud. It was strange hearing his voice echoing in this place. It didn't feel like his own and he couldn't hear it in his head.

'Come to me'. The voice, not male not female, was still calling him.

"Why?" Jeff asked again not expecting an answer.

To his surprise, the voice replied.

"Because hell awaits you"

Jeff's breath stopped. His heart broke into millions of pieces. Sadness overtook him.

"No" he said to the voice. He hated how his voice sounded still not his own. He hated that he didn't sound more confident and less scared.

"You don't have a choice, my dear"

At the sound of the last words, Jeff took a step back when he realised that from the shadows ahead a figure was moving towards him. It took a few steps but didn't come out to the sun. The figure stood away from Jeff far enough for him not to be able to see his face. The voice however came from the figure and Jeff decided that it was a man.

Still he couldn't be too sure.

He took a second step back putting more distance between them.

"What do you mean?" Jeff asked. "What hell?"

"If you don't know yet, you will know soon enough. Sooner than you think"

"Who are you? What do you want?"

The man laughed. His laugh reverberated between the empty concrete buildings making Jeff's skin crawl.

He needed to leave this place.

"You can't leave this place unless I say so" the man told him, reading his mind. "Yes I can read your mind… Jeff. It is I who brought you here and I alone can show you the way out."

"Who are you? What is it you want?" Jeff asked again angrier this time.

Although he couldn't see the man, he felt him smile.

"Everything" the man in amusement, taunting Jeff.

Jeff decided that this conversation was not worth having and he turned his back to the man wanting to leave.

But as soon as he turned, he came face to face again with the man.

Under the sun light.

His face.

Those eyes.

Under the black robes that covered his body, this man skin was pale, almost white.

And his eyes shone back as tar and deeper than the abyss.

Jeff had no idea how this man had gotten there so fast, but when he opened his mouth to speak, the man reached out his hand and grabbed Jeff's left side of the neck with his fingers.

The touch was so cold and electrifying. Jeff opened his mouth to scream but no voice came out. Instead he just gasped. It felt like electricity was running through his veins instead of blood. His muscles tensed and his eyes opened wide in terror and pain.

Unable to turn his gaze away from the man, Jeff had no choice but to stay there and look at him. The pain that travelled through his body increased and his legs gave out.

Falling to his knees seemed to take forever.

Still his eyes were on the face of the man who was starting to change. Skin got older and wrinkled, nails got longer and dug deeper into his neck, eyeballs became black, eyelids and eyelashes gone and teeth became sharper. A flick of a black long forked tongue, told Jeff that it was not a man.

"I may have failed with the others, but I won't fail with you. You belong to me… TO ME" the man screamed and the earth shook.

Jeff screamed when the man dug his other hand's nails into his neck too.

This time, his scream was his own and it filled his head as well as the pain filled his body.

"He didn't come to you in time. It is HE who failed… their champion… but I have other plans… and you will have no choice but to listen to ME"

Jeff reached with his hands and grabbed the man's palms trying to break them away from his neck. The pain was so great unlike anything he had experienced in his life. It was the first time that pain was bringing him tears.

"Pain for you will be constant from now on… pain is the only thing you will know… pain will consume you until the bitter end… until all four of them are dead… dead by your hand…"

His voice was so loud and so commanding that Jeff's mind numbed and hurt. His resistance broke in seconds and his hands fell lifelessly on his sides. It was only the man's hands that seemed to keep Jeff from falling down like a ragged doll. Still deep in the corners of his mind, he could hear the man's voice speaking to him, hurting him.

Jeff felt like dying.

Jeff felt like crying.

Jeff felt hopeless.

His hot tears burned his cheeks as they fell down and all he wanted was this pain to stop; this pain that broke his body, his mind and his heart. With no control over his body, all he could do was suffer silently and look unwillingly deep into the satanic eyes of the man.

"You will kill them and they will beg for mercy before the end." The man breathed the last words close to Jeff's face emphasizing his point by digging his nails deeper.

Jeff only managed to open his mouth a little wider and his eyes shone with new tears. There was no hope for him left… No one there to save him… He only wished for all this to end.

He only wished to wake up from this dream.

'Dream?' a small part of his mind that still alive asked in surprise. 'Is this a dream?'

"You think this is a dream?" the man asked in mockery. "Then wake up because they are coming for you" he added angrily.

Before Jeff's mind could register any more thoughts, the man removed his nails from his neck violently spraying blood all over Jeff's face.

He fell sideways onto the pavement, relieved he wasn't looking into those eyes any more. The pain was slowly receding and his vision was blurring. Hot blood ran form his neck. His hair was stuck on his face covered in blood and sweat.

The only thing he saw before the darkness came was the small bird.

It was lying on the concrete; wings spread awkwardly, beak open. Its small chest was taking its last breaths.

Like Jeff, it too was dying.

Then a thick black veil covered everything and Jeff didn't see the man or the bird any more.

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	8. CHAPTER 7 THE GATHERING

**CHAPTER 7-THE GATHERING**

Mark and Glen were outside, putting their stuff in the car. They hadn't many things to put inside in the first place, but they needed their time alone.

Dave Batista and John Cena needed their time alone as well. They were still inside the motel room sitting one next to the other.

"How are you holding up?" John asked.

"I don't know… I still don't understand much of it. I mean, I know the story about the four horsemen but I don't know what it has to do with us."

"Look… when I first had the dream, I knew it was something more than a dream. It was so vivid and so terrifying… when I woke up, I had this scar" John showed him the scar on his right palm. Dave looked at it in surprise.

"This looks old"

"It's not. When I woke up after my dream, it was already there. I got it overnight. When Glen came I knew I had to go with him. I just knew and he didn't have to explain anything to me. I don't know what we are doing here or how this is going to end, but I do know that there is no place else I would rather be. I have to do this… does it make any sense?"

"No, it doesn't." Dave said and looked away. Mark and Glen were still outside, probably talking. "I wish they would tell us something… anything about this… what it all means… why us… I understand what you are telling me and I feel the same way. After what happened in this room and in my dream…"

"What do you mean?"

"When I came here, I thought you were pulling a prank, but now I am downright scared."

"About what'll happen?"

"No… about Jeff…"

John Cena looked at Dave and waited for him to continue with his line of thought.

"This 'dream' or whatever I had, was so strong and so real, I am genuinely afraid for Jeff's life. When I woke up, I had this feeling of urgency, like we have to act fast or everything will crumble… like the world will come to an end and we have to find him soon"

At that point Mark and Glen entered the room and stood just in front of the door. The night outside was cold and there were no stars visible on the sky. Bad weather was approaching them and they had to leave to head back to the city. There more work awaited them before the next step. John and Dave had their backs turned on them but they heard the two men entering. It was only John that turned and looked above his shoulder. Mark's eyes were dark as always and Glen's were icy cold. In John's mind, the two brothers were so much alike; perhaps not so much in appearance but in their way of thinking and acting. One completed the other and one could not exist without the other. Together they made a whole.

"Are we too late?" Dave asked them without looking at them.

Mark looked at Glen for an answer. Mark's abilities and knowledge were extensive and vast, but didn't reach beyond this plane and he could not see what lies ahead.

"I don't know. For some reason, it is hidden from me. I couldn't see Jeff in the first place and I still can't. You are the one connected to Jeff, Dave, and only you can sense him… so… what does your heart tell you?"

John looked at his friend sitting next to him. Dave was looking at his hands resting on his knees.

"My heart is… it… feels… broken"

"How do you mean that?" Cena asked.

"I feel so sad. The feeling of urgency has passed, and now I feel so… alone"

"I don't understand… why alone?"

"I can't explain it. I just know I have to find Jeff… I… he needs me"

"Mark…." Glen spoke. "We have to go now back to the hotel and find Jeff… maybe we are not too late"

Mark was standing silent all this time by the door, thinking and searching his mind. All his life, he was waiting for this fight to come, all the pain he had endured to get this far, all the blood he had shed, all the long nights, the scars, the reading, the books and the scrolls… all his master ever told him… all the sacrifices and the killings… everything lead up to this battle with the forces of the dark. He actually knew what it had to be done, it was just that now, standing there at the brink of the edge, right before the end, with those men he considered his friends he didn't want to do it.

Because of what he had to do and what they would all have to give up to save everybody else from the claws of hell. Mark remained silent and looked up. Dave was looking at him too. His eyes were sad and deep inside Mark thought that maybe Dave was finally catching up.

"Is… is he dead?" Dave asked, his voice breaking aw he spoke the last word.

"No" Mark simply answered. "Hell needs Jeff as much as you need him. Hell can't win without him and the dark lord will not dispose of him before the end. We need to find him even if it is too late. Jeff needs to come with us and he needs to be with you Dave… when the time comes…"

"Why won't the dark lord kill him? If they know who he is, why won't they just kill him?" John asked.

"The dark lord can't reach us now. As long as you are with me, he can't harm you… the time has passed when he could. Now that you know who you are, he is unable to read your mind or control you. He needs Jeff to get to us."

"Well, if we find him, won't he too be safe with us?" Cena asked the obvious.

"Not anymore" Dave answered instead.

"There is still a chance" Glen added. "Maybe Jeff is stronger than we give him credit for"

"Yeah… maybe" Mark mumbled mostly to himself. He turned and started to leave when Dave's voice stopped him.

"If they get to Jeff before us, then won't he try to stop us?"

Mark didn't reply and he didn't turn to look at the rest of the group. Instead, he looked outside into the night. It was too late and the door of the room was wide open. The starless night was providing a deep cover for the creatures of the underworld. They would be able to come as close as they wanted before Mark could detect their presence.

The windows and the doors must remain closed… especially now that the end was near.

"Probably" Glen responded in Mark's place. "There is a chance that if they have reached him first, then he will be manipulated into killing us and we won't know it until the last moment."

"So... what do we do?" John asked not really wanting to know the answer.

"We must find him… at all cost" Mark was still not looking at them.

"Even if he means to kill us?" John asked standing up.

"The alternative is unthinkable" Dave said and buried his face in his hands in despair. He felt so tired and alone. He wanted to leave this motel and find Jeff. For reasons still unknown to him, the only thing he wanted… no… the only thing he needed was Jeff.

John looked at Mark and Glen for confirmation.

Glen nodded in agreement to Dave's words.

"Come… we gave to go."

Numbly John left the room and Dave followed.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

The road back to the city was not long but to Dave it seemed to take an eternity. As they put the miles behind them, he started to get nervous and anxious. Loneliness was still in his heart, but as he looked outside the window towards the city lights, a new feeling started to creep inside him. Since the beginning of all this, he never felt fear for his own life. He had followed Glen to the motel room thinking all this was a bad joke his fellow wrestlers were playing on him… but then he had that dream… that vision of Jeff and suddenly everything had changed inside him. He feared for Jeff's life. He didn't know why he felt that way and why now, but all he knew is that he needed him.

"Why do I feel this way?" Dave asked inside the car breaking the warm silence.

Mark was driving the car, with Glen sitting beside him.

"All of us have reached the most important point of our existence. We have all been chosen because of who we are and who can become… we have been chosen because of our heart, our soul and our integrity. The fear you feel Dave…" Mark said and looked momentarily at Dave from the rear view mirror guessing his feelings, "… is because you are for the pale rider, and hell always follows the pale rider. The connection you have with Jeff is natural because like hell and the pale rider are together and act as one, you cannot fight unless you have Jeff by your side. It is he who gives you integrity, courage, heart and strength to fight them… you complete each other and you are the exact opposite of the pale rider and hell. You won't be able to fight unless we have him with us, even if he is compromised… you fear for his life, not because we might loose the battle if he is dead, but because without him you are incomplete."

Dave removed his eyes from Mark. His long speech had answered his question but had not satisfied him.

"When we find him" John asked, "will you know if hell has reached him first?"

Mark looked at his brother expecting an answer. Glen just nodded as if agreeing with all that Mark was thinking.

"Dave will know" Glen spoke.

"If they have him, is there a chance to get him back?"

"A small one and it will depend on Dave…"

John looked at Dave who refused to look at them. He still was looking outside to the city lights. Time wasn't passing and they weren't driving fast enough…

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

When their car pulled at the hotel in the city, all four men exited and started walking. Just before entering, Mark stopped them.

"Gather your things and meet me at Jeff's room at 606. Be quiet and don't tell anyone about this. Don't be late…"

"What about the house shows? Won't they start looking for us if we suddenly go missing? People will start looking for us" John had to ask. He was willing to follow to wherever they would have to go to, but it wouldn't be helpful having the police looking for them.

"We don't have time for this… and we won't be gone for too long. Our next house show is in five days… what we have to do won't take more than two days. Glen will leave a message that we are all hitting the road together and that we will meet the rest of the crew in the next town for the next show. Now go… I will be waiting for you at Jeff's room"

They all left and as Dave started to leave last, Mark grabbed his arm holding him behind.

"Don't take too long. I am going to need you in there"

Dave's eyes shone in the dark thick night. He shook his head and jogged inside.

Mark waited for a moment before entering the hotel. He kept his hands in his pockets, fisting a small item he had taken from the car. He opted for the elevators further from the reception. Even if it was very late, there were some people present and he really didn't need the attention.

When he reached the sixth floor, it was easy to find Jeff's room but didn't knock. He lingered outside, his hand still in his pockets. At times like this he found it easier to focus on the things surrounding him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He managed to slow down his heart rate and get his pulse under control. There was no sound present in the corridor and he was thankful that the only thing he could focus on was the smell of the carpet under his boots. His mind was travelling a thousand miles an hour, recalling the teachings he had and the worlds he was looking for.

A very long time ago his teacher had told him one simple truth.

'_You were born into this world for one reason… to save us from evil when it comes to us… everything in your life will be hard and there will be times you will wish you were dead… you will have to do things no man should…'_

Things no man should…

Was this was one of them?

He knocked at the door. It slid open.

Obviously Jeff was expecting him.

He had learned along time ago to be calm. He was rarely surprised at this point of his life. He calmly pushed to door and entered the room.

What he saw, he wasn't expecting.

Jeff was on the floor, unconscious, blood running from wounds on his neck. The carpet and the sheets were also bloodied. Mark hurried inside the room and closed the door behind him. He carefully took Jeff in his arms and studied the wounds. He knew those patterns and he had seen them before… those were nail marks… long nails, claws that had dug into his neck.

"Jeff… wake up" Mark whispered to Jeff's ear.

Jeff's eyes began to flutter open with difficulty. Mark carried him onto the bed and placed him carefully. He went to the bathroom and took a wet towel. When he returned to the room, Jeff was awake but in pain. His hands were gripping tightly the dirty bed sheets and his neck was stretched upwards. Mark cleaned the wounds and with relief saw they weren't as bas as he thought. Most of the bleeding had stopped. He carefully dressed the wounds with one of Jeff's t-shirts before turning and looking at him deeply in the eyes for the first time.

Jeff looked lost and confused.

"Did you see him?" Mark asked softly.

"Yes…" His voice was raw and rough.

"You must calm down and tell me everything" Mark spoke calmly. He stroked Jeff's hair away from his sweaty forehead and waited patiently.

"He… he came… and he told me… I have to kill you…" Jeff closed his eyes remembering the pain he had endured… the nails in his neck and the eyes that burned his soul like wild fire. "He… he killed me…"

Jeff's tears were hot on his cheeks. He wanted to wipe them away but couldn't… he didn't have the strength to lift his hand.

Someone knocked on the door. When Mark opened it, he saw all three men standing outside. He let them in and as soon as Dave saw Jeff on the bed, all the blood and the agony on his face, he ran to him and knelt next to him.

Neither man spoke. Neither felt they needed to. They just looked in each other's eyes. Dave reached and took Jeff's hand in his and squeezed it comfortingly.

Jeff strangely felt better by seeing Dave coming close to him. The pain subsided and strength seemed to be returning to him. He welcomed his touch as if it was taking all the pain away. His breathing calmed and he managed to look finally into the larger man's eyes.

They too were in pain; like his body was… but like Jeff's pain, the hurt in Dave's eyes was quickly fading.

"We have to go" Glen broke the silence. "We are ready to go…we have a long road ahead"

"Can Jeff travel?" John asked looking concerned.

"I can…" he spoke and looked at Batista. "Dave… the gathering has began."

Dave looked down somehow knowing what Jeff was talking about. He nodded and told the others what Jeff meant.

"The horsemen… they are almost here"

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Ten minutes later, the car was speeding away from the hotel, five men inside… five souls… five hearts. The city lights faded in the distance and in a few moments only the roar of the engine was heard. Mark and Glen as always were sitting in the front seats and the others on the back. John was on the left and Dave on the right.

Jeff was in between them, wrapped in Dave's arms, his head leaning on his chest, eyes closed and sleeping.

Sleeping calmly.

Safely.

Dave was once again looking outside into the darkness. Small raindrops were accompanying their travel. He didn't feel afraid any more. Jeff was with him. He felt strangely complete, calm and relaxed. Jeff's steady breathing against his chest was soothing despite the doom that awaited them.

There was only one thing that bothered him.

He still didn't know if hell had claimed Jeff. He still couldn't tell if the man he held so close to him was going to kill them all before the end.

Anger welled up inside him and he was glad of the darkness. The others couldn't see his tears of determination.

He was going to fight even if it meant fighting to the death.


	9. CHAPTER 8 THE ROAD TO NOWHERE

**CHAPTER 8****-THE ROAD TO NOWHERE**

The drive was taking all night. The bad weather had caught up with them a few hours ago. At first it was only a few raindrops, but then the sky turned pitch black and all the stars vanished. The moon hid behind dark clouds unseen to the naked eye and then it was not just rain. It was quickly turning into a storm and John Cena thought that maybe they should find a place to stay until the storm passes.

"It is not a storm" Mark told him. "It is a sign of things to come"

"The Horsemen are coming" Jeff spoke. Everyone turned and looked at him, but he was still sleeping in Dave's embrace. He had spoken as if in a trance, from a place between dreams and reality.

John looked at him and felt the hairs on his neck stand up. Jeff had barely spoken two sentences since the time they had found him, and those words he spoken had crept him out.

Nobody else spoke for a while. Nobody seemed afraid of the storm anymore, not now that they knew where it was coming from. Dave looked outside his window but couldn't see anything but rain and darkness. He tried to guess what could be out there. He half closed his eyes and tried to visualise his surroundings. There had to be trees out there; tall trees, green trees, thick forests and wild flowers; animals and birds. He tried to see in his mind the car they were riding, passing from narrow streets among those trees, the tires splashing and their headlights illuminating just a small distance ahead.

"Where are we going?" Dave asked.

Mark didn't look at him from the mirror this time. Instead he kept his gaze on the road ahead. His left hand was covering his mouth, a gesture that showed Dave that Mark was lost in thought. He went to ask again when his question was answered.

"Home" he said in a rough voice

and looked at his brother. Glen was silent and had his eyes on the road. For a moment Dave thought that the younger brother hadn't heard them and from the look Mark had given him, maybe he was expecting some sort of reaction from him. But none came.

"Do you remember home?"

"No" Glen simply answered. There had been times he wished he did remember, but the memories of his later childhood were too strong and too painful to let him grasp at the fast fading recollections of a happy childhood. The truth was that the brothers had been separated very early in their lives for one to remember the other. No brother had any memory of the other as a child.

"How do you know where we are going in the first place?" John asked.

"In this world, there are very few places of true evil. In our country, there is but one and is in the town where Glen and I were born."

"What do you mean by 'places of evil'?"

"A place of evil is spot in our world that acts like a sealed door to hell. All evil is drown to this place, both human and demonic evil alike. It is no chance that we were born there."

"This place of evil, what is it?" Cena asked.

"It is a house"

"The house you were born?"

"No"

"So how do we get in?"

"It's been abandoned for as long as I remember. When I was young, I remember the other kids daring each other to approach it, but no one ever did."

"Have you ever been inside?"

"No"

"Why?"

"Because I was afraid of it"

John had already opened his mouth to ask another question, but Mark's answer about him being afraid of a house made him shut it.

"Now be silent… we are almost there…"

All men looked ahead. The rain was subsiding and from the long distance, the sun was rising behind a huge mountain giving the sky the most unreal orange colour. Dave was glad for some light. He would finally be able to see what was out there surrounding them.

When the first sun rays reached them, he welcomed its warmth. He closed his eyes momentarily letting them chase away the coldness from his body and when he reopened them, he turned his gaze to the outside.

And smiled, when he saw that he was right. They were completely surrounded by tall trees, dark green foliage forming a thick forest. He liked when despite the thickness there where some places where the sun rays penetrated the foliage, giving the place a fairytale air. He had grown in the city, among tall buildings and concrete apartments and it was rare for him to be in such a place of beauty.

"This isn't a place of beauty but of death" Jeff spoke from Dave's embrace. He had woken up some time ago and like Dave, he too was staring outside. The few sun rays that passed through were falling on his face, but he felt no warmth.

Jeff being a creature of nature, being born among trees and away from the city craziness, felt that he should feel here like home. But as soon as he had opened his eyes and glanced around, he knew that something was wrong. Where Dave saw beauty, he could only see shadow. Where Dave could see light, Jeff only saw a rip in the cloth of the underworld.

"How do you know what I am thinking?" Dave asked him.

"I don't really know. I just looked at you and your thoughts came to me like you had whispered them to my ear... for a moment, I thought you had."

"You can read our thoughts?" Cena looked at them in surprise.

"No, just Dave's"

Batista looked in the front seat and met Mark's eyes. This only added to the words Mark had told him a few hours back… on how Jeff completed him. It was amazing with how much ease all of them had accepted their fate, but even more amazing was the fact that Jeff was acting like he had known about this his entire life. He had never asked questions like Dave, and he had never doubted each man's participation in this. At that point Mark realized that maybe they had been too late. Hell had reached Jeff already and that was obvious from the state they had found him in the hotel but what damage had been done, that remained to be seen. They had to reach their destination and together with his brother, they had to perform the ritual.

"Are you cold?" Dave asked softly to Jeff who had started to shiver in his embrace.

"No…" Jeff whispered back and nobody seemed to have heard them.

"Then why are you trembling?"

"The shadows…"

"Don't be afraid. I will never let anything happen to you."

"I know. I am not afraid for myself… but for you"

Dave smiled at him.

"While we driving to you last night, I told Mark the exact same thing…"

"It seems that we are bound together in this"

"Jeff… did you…"

"What?"

"Should we… you know… be on our guards… about you?"

"How's that?"

"Have they gotten to you first? Were we too late?"

Jeff had his eyes on Dave but when the last question was asked, even as softly as it had been uttered, he sunk back into his embrace and fell silent. The memories of the dream were still too vivid to let go and the ripped t-shirt wrapped around his wounded neck still hurt. Truth be told, he remembered exactly what hell had told him and what he had been ordered to do, but he didn't want to do it and he would rather die than commit murder. But were they too late… that, he didn't know. Was he damned? He did feel like it. Since the moment he had woken up to the sight of Mark hovering above him in the hotel, something in his gut told him that if there was going to be a casualty in this ordeal, that would be himself and no other.

And that terrified him. He didn't want to die and the thought of killing the three men in this car, was more horrifying; he would rather have himself suffer and die a most excruciating death than see their blood on his hands.

When Dave had taken him in his arms back at the hotel, Jeff had known instantly that he could not go on without him. Somehow, the large man's presence next to him gave him the strength and the courage he needed for what was ahead.

"They have gotten to me before you" he finally replied "But I don't think you are late."

Dave felt him shiver and tightened his embrace. Jeff felt his body warm up and closed his eyes, relaxing to the soothing touch. He needed to relax because deep inside he knew that it would be the last time.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

They didn't have to drive for long. When they reached the roots of the huge mountain, Mark stopped the car by the road and killed the engine. None exited the car and none spoke for a moment. They would soon begin their ascension to the small town.

"We will go and organize in a small house in the border of the town. There won't be many people around but if you see anyone don't talk to them and don't look at them. We don't know who might be watching. Maybe the tear in the cloak of hell is larger now and we don't know what has passed through. We have work to do before the nightfall."

"That's when we will go into the house in the centre of the town" Glen added.

"Why night-time?" Cena asked.

"Because it's the only time the shadows can't hide"

And the ascension began.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

The drive took them up near the top of the mountain. They saw the first houses located in the mist the clouds formed. John knew that if they were to drive a little more upwards, the sun would be shining again. But the town was there, in that height and it was covered in a thick white mist.

Dave rolled down the window. He wanted to sniff the air, the moisture and the nature. It had been a while since had last done that and he really missed it. Jeff was awake and still in his arms, which kind of amused him. He was the picture of innocence, but he knew better. For the last couple of miles, Dave couldn't stop thinking that Hell had gotten to the young Hardy first. Questions filled his mind and knowing that Jeff could read his thought didn't help. If he was, then he hadn't said anything so far. Was it because he didn't know the answer or was it because he was hiding his true face? Or was it out of fear? Because of what Mark and Glen might do if they found out?

The air touched his face and he welcomed it. It was cold outside and he could feel the wetness in the air. He wondered for a fleeting moment if the weather was like this all year long or was it because of evil?

"Shut the window" Glen barked from the front seat. "You'll let the dead get in… shut the window…" he repeated.

The window closed without further discussion and none of the men seating on the back wanted to know what that meant.

After a while, the car took a turn to the right, into a dirt road and slowly rolled into the wild. The small cabin they arrived was located a small way from the main road. It stood lonely in the middle of a clearing, among the tall trees. The car came to a halt a few feet away from the front porch and all men got out relieved to stretch their legs.

John looked at Jeff on the other side of the car. He looked exhausted, numb and scared. He was turning his gaze around, as if he was searching for something… maybe waiting for something or someone. That thought made Cena look around as well but not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he turned and looked at the young Hardy again. He wasn't expecting to meet his deep eyes staring back at him.

For a moment, John couldn't read Jeff's expression. It was a mixture of sadness and desperation. But there was something else in his eyes, something he couldn't put his finger on and that disturbed him. If he had a few more moments to stare into his eyes maybe he would have found out, but the sound of Mark's voice telling them to pick up their things and enter the house, broke the contact.

The sounds of their steps were getting lost in the mist and the moisture around them. As Glen was unlocking the front door, Jeff turned and stood on the edge of the porch.

"There is no sound coming from the forest" That simple statement brought the rest next to him. They all stood side by side, looking ominously at the weird nature surrounding them. The sun light was barely passing through the mist but the few sunrays that did, were giving the air a strange faded blurry texture. "Was it always like this?"

"As far as I remember" the Deadman replied. "Come inside Jeff, we must perform the ritual"

"What kind of ritual?"

"The Banishing Ritual"

"What is that?" Jeff asked, innocence hiding in his voice.

"It's a ritual we all must perform to balance the elements in us and prepare our bodies. It is also a ritual performed by priests through the ages to invoke the Archangels and banish the spirits"

"Will it work?"

"On us? Yes… on you? I don't know" he told Jeff truthfully.

"What can happen to me?"

"If the grip Hell has on you is firm, the Archangels might kill you"

He closed the door and locked it behind him shutting the world outside. The mist couldn't get in and all the windows were closed. Soon candles were lit around the main room, shedding light in the dusty corners of the house. The shadows cast were too long for Mark's pleasure, but they would have to do.

The fight was a long way away yet, but Jeff's fight was about to begin.

Mark turned and looked at the young man in a corner of the room lighting a candle. A feeling of deep sadness overtook him. As the candle lit up, its yellow light fell upon Jeff's face illuminating it. His face looked so clear now, so young, innocent and calm. He stood above the candle for a few seconds trying to absorb the small amount of heat it emitted.

Opening his eyes, Jeff turned and looked straight into Mark's eyes.

"I am ready" he said.

"Then let us begin"

Mark took the first step forward and everyone hesitantly followed.


	10. CHAPTER 9 THE BANISHING RITUAL

**CHAPTER 9-THE BANISHING RITUAL**

It took Mark quite some time to explain what he wanted to do. The ritual about to be begin was complicated and demanded every man's attention and concentration. Each man had to do specific tasks and utter specific words. It had been a long time since the dead man had performed it as well… but like many other things, this one he could not forget no matter how much time passed.

It was a little after midday but the closed blinds and drawn dirty curtains made it look like it was midnight already. The room, dipped in darkness save for the burning candles, was ready to be used and the men were all told what they needed to do. It was going to be a dangerous for all men, but especially for Jeff. That was made clear to all and all agreed without much hesitation.

The wooden floor under their feet had been wiped clean from the dust. Mark had taken a white chalk and had drawn a perfect circle. He had divided the circle into four quarters and had painted each in different colour. Before explaining anything, he had placed the four men around the circle. John Cena stood at the point facing north. Glen was in the eastern point, Mark stood at the southern point and Dave at the western point.

Each man stood with his back on the centre facing out and away from the circle and each one had a big white candle lit in front of their feet. Jeff was placed in the dead centre of the circle facing Dave's back.

The centre was a big black spot with a pentagram of white painted over it. The four colours painted on each quarter had a special significance. The colour green stood for the element of the earth, the colour yellow stood for the wind. Blue stood for water and red for fire.

The purpose of the ritual was to bless the four participants but the main goal was to banish all four elements, fire, water, earth and air, and let only one element remain… the Spirit Element. The circle was divided into the quarters by a white cross… all four colours were completely separated from each other by the white chalk lines and they could not be allowed to mix together. Combined elements could mean the death of the participants. The white cross separated the elements but also in a way, it united them in the centre.

However banishing the elements would leave a void and the five men would not be able to live unless the void was filled with something else.

And that would be the Elemental Archangels, who would give them energy to purify, balance and strengthen themselves.

That was if all went according to plan.

They were ready. All felt nervous, all but Mark. He had done that a few times before, but this time the stakes were too high for his liking. He was glad he had such great men with him and he wished for no other. He didn't know about the others, but he trusted Jeff. Before turning his back on him, he had looked into his eyes and he knew that he wouldn't do anything to them. Jeff looked more scared than anyone he had seen take part in this ritual. Murder was not in his eyes.

'At least not yet.' He thought.

"Please, take your places"

In silence, each man took his place in the four points and turned their backs to the centre. Slowly Jeff walked to the centre.

Before taking his place, Mark took a black chalk and started to draw another circle around the white one, going counter clockwise. When he finished, he stood behind Glen and from the exterior circle drew and arrow that ended to the centre, while he uttered the worlds "YOD –HE- VAU –HE".

He did the same thing, from his point of the circle speaking the words "ADONAI". Behind batista, spoke the word "EHEIEH" and lastly behind John the word "AGLA"

He was the last man to take his place on the South.

"Let's begin… we are late already"

John took a dagger in his right hand and touched his forehead with its blade.

"Ateh" he said like was told to.

He gave the dagger to Glen who placed it on his breast

"Malkuth" he spoke in his turn and gave it to Mark who used it to touch his right shoulder.

"Geburah" were his words.

Dave took the dagger and touched his left shoulder.

"Gebulah"

He gave the dagger to Jeff who stood still in the centre facing Dave's back. He clasped it between his palms in front of his face and spoke

"Le-Olam"

Mark had explained them that these words were a phrase in Hebrew taken from Our Lord's Prayer and it literally meant "Thou Art The Kingdom of the Power and the Glory, Forever"

Jeff took the dagger by the blade and closed it in his fist. He didn't bleed. He knew he didn't have to. He spoke "Amen"

The four men standing on the circle opened their arms outstretched and together spoke.

"Before me Raphael

Behind me Gabriel

At my right hand Michael

At my left hand, Auriel"

Jeff was not to speak those words, He had his eyes open while the others had theirs closed. The wind in the room strangely seemed to be picking up despite the fast closed windows and doors but the lit candles wouldn't blow out.

This was the time to banish the four elements. When they had asked, Mark had told them that God had no control over man or nature. He had given man 'free will' and had promised Noah after the great flood that he would no longer interfere in the life of men and nature. Man was left to be on his own in this mortal life and man alone would be the master of his fate. But the devil didn't care. The dark lord could still have dominion over some forces of nature and the purpose of the ritual was to banish those forces that were manipulated by him.

Starting from John, and continuing to Glen, each participant took a handful of white chalk and removing his shirt, painted on his chest and abdomen. The last man to do so was Jeff.

"We banish you by the power granted to us by our Lord up in heaven"

The wind suddenly stopped and Jeff was the only one to look around for any change in their surroundings. Nothing was out of place, yet there was something very different and very wrong. A feeling of danger was invading him and he wondered if everybody else felt the same way. He frantically looked around, expecting an attack.

"We invoke you with the authority of the spirit" Mark said invoking the Archangels.

Like the gates of hell had opened at that very moment, energy flowed into the room and into the circle. From under their feet and under the circle, light came out, white and blinding. Jeff had to close his eyes to shield them from it remembering Mark's words that no one was allowed or capable to see the Archangels. All who had done so had lost their sight and their mind.

No one would see them.

Their ears filled with sounds of nature, of earth, wind, fire and water. Each archangel was the protector and guardian of the each element. Jeff wanted to open his eyes and look around him. But the archangels seemed to be charging at all directions inside the circle. It felt like they were trapped and couldn't get out. As the moments passed and the noise only grew stronger, so did the intensity of the charge. The elements whirled inside the circle, light and power enveloping every man standing in the outer circle. They were moving from man to man, twisting around their bodies, engulfing them before turning their attention to the last man standing in the centre. That was when things changed. The strong whirling and twisting grew in force and became an attack. The attack of the archangels started to focus on Jeff. They started circling him, turning around him like the wind, like a twister made of light and pain. It took them no time to detect the touch of evil him, and although they too were all too familiar with evil, they didn't want him in this circle. He was forbidden to take part in this ritual, only the blessed were allowed. Allowing this man to enter and take part was a blasphemy. And the touch of hell on him was too strong to ignore. This man should have never been permitted in there.

This man was tainted and he had to die.

Jeff heard a painful scream and he realized it was his own voice mixing with the noises of the elements; a voice rougher than usual and guttural. It didn't sound like his own and he really didn't want to hurt and scream. But the archangels were attacking him, like Mark had told him they would. Jeff felt air around him, wind blowing with such force that his skin was aching, ready to be torn off his flesh. The wind was carrying with it pieces of the earth, sand and dirt, gravels, pebbles and rocks, everything came towards him, everything was aiming at him. Jeff still clutching the dagger lifted his hands to protect himself from the assault. His naked and exposed skin was raw from the air and his body ached where the rocks were targeting. Then, when he thought he couldn't take more, he felt heavy rain. He felt like he was standing in the middle of a thunderstorm naked without shelter. He was freezing from the cold water falling on him, aching from the rocks that kept coming at him, aiming at his head and body. If there was any blood running from his wounds, the rain was painfully washing it away. Jeff felt so tired and lonely. He wanted to open his eyes if only to see the others and take comfort from them. But the pain was so strong and the forces around him unimaginably terrifying. He heard another scream but this time it didn't come from him and it wasn't his own. This scream was deep and made of thousands of voices coming from the deep of the earth, from hell itself; they came from under his feet. They felt like millions of hands reaching out from under the circle and scratching their way up, their nails and claws digging into Jeff's body. The rain stopped as suddenly as it had started and Jeff was allowed one breath of relief, one and one alone, before he felt warmth emanating from everything and everyone around him. He welcomed it, especially after the freezing cold of the rain, but the increasing intensity of the heat told his mind that the worse was about to begin. He didn't remove his hands from protecting his head and ignored the blood that run from his palms downwards to his arms from the tight clutching of the dagger. And then, like a roar of a monster Jeff imagined existed only in tales, the heat became a fire and everything around him burned to thousands degrees. The rocks that the hot now wind carried burned like coals, scratching him, marking him and burning his flesh.

He screamed again no longer able to control his pain and suffering. He wanted this to end. He didn't realize the tears rolling down his face, hot burning tears tracing a clear path down his dirtied cheeks. This was his purging, and the elements intended to either consume every blemish of the soul and every trace of evil or kill him.

But this attack was too strong and Jeff felt no longer able to withstand it. Exhaustion and pain like he had never felt in his life finally broke him and he fell to his knees, down on the centre of the circle. His arms dropped to his sides, leaving his head and face unprotected. He stopped screaming, having no longer the strength to do so. Only unwilling and uncontrollable tears still ran. He could feel his skin burning, blistering and blood ran down from wounds of his body. He was loosing this battle fast. Before the beginning of the ritual, he thought he would be able to win somehow, but now he knew he couldn't. And without anybody telling him, he just knew what he had to do.

He lifted his hands and brought the dagger in front of his chest, blade pointed down. The heat was too great, and soon Jeff wouldn't be able to breathe. His chest was heaving from pain and each breath hurt his lungs and throat.

"I won't let you kill them… you can have me… kill me… bit I won't let you destroy them… do you hear me?" he screamed at the top of his lungs with his eyes closed but his face up to the ceiling.

And with a single motion, he thrust the dagger into the dead black centre of the circle, shoving the blade into the wooden floor all the way to the hilt.

Then everything stopped.

There was no more noise, no more elements attacking, no wind or heat or water or dirt.

Nothing but silence and candle light.

"About me flames the pentagram and within me shines the six rayed star" Mark spoke, his voice creepy in the stillness.

His heart was racing, like it had never done in the past. He had been able to hear everything that was taking place behind him, inside the circle, to Jeff but he knew he could not interfere. Jeff would have to find the solution by himself. He had heard the young hardy screaming his suffering, he had heard him yell and fall to his knees. And he had heard him scream the words of desperation.

When the attack had stopped for a moment so did Dave's heart. He didn't know how he was able to find the strength to resist and not turn around to help. The screaming coming from behind him was heart-wrenching and made him hate himself for not dong anything about it. With arms still outstretched, he could feel the elements' attack inside the circle, but he could feel every part of Jeff's pain like it was his own. He could feel the desperation in his heart like he was in the centre. When Jeff's words in the end were uttered, Dave's heart skipped a beat not actually believing what he had heard; not wanting to either. Mark had spoken then the last words of the ritual ad he knew he could turn around and face the result of their doing.

John tried to remain detached from everything that took place behind him. He had known these men for many years and had spent many hours with them in and out of the ring. It was easy to call them his friends when the times were good. Bad times, until know, weren't something he had experienced. But things had changed during the last days. He was forced to face the bad times coming towards them with these same men he called his friends. And he was truly proud to have them by his side. When they had stood on the circle in the beginning, he didn't know what to expect. The look on Mark and Glen's face had told him that there was danger in the ritual mainly for Jeff but also for them too. But he had done it; he had stood there with the others, unknowingly placing his life on Jeff's hands. Like the others, he had heard the battle raging inside the circle and he really wanted to turn and help. But he didn't. He remained in place, waiting for exhilaration or death. A sob escaped him when he heard Jeff defying the elements and offering his life for the sake of the others.

Glen had done this one other time in his life, but the stakes weren't this high that time. He was a sentimental man but rarely showed it. His troubled and hard life hadn't allowed him to learn express his feelings, unburden his soul and he had been forced in his childhood to repress everything, find another way to balance his mind. He didn't need his brother to tell him how hard and dangerous this would be. He knew like he knew some other things. He sometimes knew just by looking at men. This time, all involved had a special place in his life and in his heart. These were men he considered his family and he didn't wish to loose them. The hard and tough facade was difficult to maintain before, during and after the ritual. Only Mark knew how hard it was going to be for Glen to find his mental balance after the ritual. Having the gift of vision, Glen was able to see through the other's eyes and feel what they felt. He knew how painful it was going to be.

The ritual was over at last. It had taken them some time to complete. To the men standing around the circle had seemed to take only minutes.

To Jeff it seemed the suffering to last a lifetime.

Dave was to first to break his position and turn around, frantically searching for Jeff.

"No" he whispered but everyone heard him.

He felt sadness and fear rise to his throat when his eyes fell upon the fallen, unmoving body of Jeff. He was crumpled to the ground, broken like a ragged doll; eyes closed, tear stained face, bloodied, battered and bruised. The dagger was stuck in the ground right in the middle of the circle, and his palms had both deep bleeding cut. But what made Dave's heart break was the look on Jeff's face; frozen in a grotesque mask of pain and misery.

His long strides brought him next to Jeff. He knelt down and gently picked up his head on his lap. He brought his ear next to his face, trying to hear breathing or any other sign of life all the while his heart beating frantically. His body smelled like dirt, sweat and soot. Blood had already caked on his wounds and his hair was stuck on his face and neck. Dave remained still, his ear above Jeff's nose. The others were still in place, waiting anxiously.

They saw Dave take a deep breath and closing his eyes, he placed his forehead on Jeff's chest. He sat there for a few seconds before turning to Mark.

"He is breathing…barely… he is still alive"

"Fuck" John said in relief and sat down on the floor catching a breath had been holding for a while.

Glen just breathed and looked at his brother, him too relieved. He watched as Dave picked up Jeff's body and placed him on a bed at the far side of the room. They waited until he was comfortable resting on the mattress and all three approached them. As much as mark would like to let them rest, they couldn't. What seemed like a few minutes had lasted three hours and time was not on their side. They had to move and come up with a plan before nightfall. Tonight was the night the four horsemen would ride again.

"I don't understand" Glen spoke. "I thought the Archangels would kill Jeff as soon as they saw him… what happened?"

Mark crossed his arms and watched as Dave and John were cleaning Jeff's wounds.

"One of the first things I learned was that evil doesn't surrender or give up. It may bluff sometimes, but the direct way is the fastest and evil doesn't waste time. When the elemental archangels saw Jeff, they began their attack meaning to destroy the evil on Jeff or destroy Jeff himself, him being the vessel of evil and hell. At first, he did what evil would do and that is resist in foul force. But then, he did something unexpected; he surrendered. If he had resisted a little longer then he would have died. And if he was killed, then the spirit element would be loose to charge and kill us all."

"I don't get it" John said, sitting by Jeff on the bed.

"Jeff stood in the middle of the circle. The centre is the point where all elements meet and become one. We allowed him to stand there and be sort of a conduit between us and the elements. That position is always held by a person of purity and innocence… and we put him there. The archangels didn't question us but when they put Jeff to test and saw the evil inside him, they got enraged. If Jeff had died, then we would be the ones to blame for letting evil take part in this ritual. They would have killed us too. But then Jeff did what nobody had done before. He surrendered. He was willing to die, to sacrifice himself for us. Sacrifice is the noblest thing anyone can do… it is almost divine."

"But he survived" Dave spoke looking at the younger Hardy.

Mark nodded. Jeff was still unconscious and as much as he would like to let him rest, he had to wake him up. They had to talk about a lot of things before the day's light would be gone.

"Wake him up" he told them.

Dave gently shook him up and John took a wet cloth and cleaned Jeff's face. Maybe the water would wake him up.

Surely, a few moments later Jeff opened his eyes and tiredly looked around him. He didn't have any strength to get up and his body felt sore.

"Am I dead?" he asked.

"Far from it" Glen replied and smiled.

"Did the ritual….?"

"Yes, we succeeded… you… succeeded." Mark said and smiled in his turn. "You are the strongest person I know… you won this battle… and I am sorry…"

"Why?"

"Because the easy part is over… the hard part is but a few hours ahead of us…"

"How will this end? Will it? Ever?"

Mark looked at him ominously. His stern gaze turned soft at the unexpected question. He knew now… he knew how the fathers felt when they sent their sons to war… when they sent them out to die…

He didn't respond. He looked at him and simply walked away.

And Jeff had his answer.


	11. CHAPTER 10 LIES AND TRUTHS

**CHAPTER 10****-LIES AND TRUTHS**

The blinds of the house were opened but the windows remained shield shut. The sun was shedding its last rays upon the house but he couldn't feel any warmth. Outside the storm had caught up with them and rain was pouring. There were times where lightings and thunders fell near them. Those times, he always got startled by the bright light and the sound. It seemed to be nearing them with every strike. He still was on the bed where the others had put him. He looked at his body. It was still raw but the others had done a good job patching him up. Still there were parts of his body that ached. His hand reached and touched a spot on his face, just above his left eye. The bandage didn't allow him to feel the wound, but he knew this was the cause of his massive headache. He didn't say anything about it though. He didn't want to burden them.

He looked at his arm, at his tattoos. In the dream he had, they had become bloor red, almost alive. Did it mean anything? And that bird… what was it doing in his dream? He had figured by now that everything had a meaning, whether it was obvious or hidden.

"In my dream… I saw a bird…" he started, and all four turned to look at him.

Jeff was looking outside the window when he had spoken his phrase, but sensing the attention of the others, he looked back at them.

"It was eating a human eye…" he choked on his words and looked down at his hands. He could hear someone approaching unsteadily. He looked up hesitantly and saw Dave. Batista wasn't sure if he should come closer, wanting to respect Jeff's need of space. But the look on the young man's eyes told him how lonely and scared he was. He took a seat next to him and the others came closer. Somehow he knew that Jeff would be able to draw some strength from his near presence.

"Did you see it do anything else?" Mark asked.

"Yeah… in the end… I saw it next to me… it was dying."

Mark alarmed looked at Glen and then at Dave.

"What? What is going on?"

Jeff's question was simple and yet so difficult to answer. All looked at the Dead Man for the answer.

"When this all started, Glen and I knew from the start who were going to face the four horsemen… and we knew the scriptures and the bible. All converged to the fact that there is a fifth man…"

"The one that follows the pale rider… hell…"

Jeff was catching up. Mark nodded and continued.

"We knew that Dave was going to face the pale rider and it made sense that he would know who would fight hell… Dave had a dream about a bird too. And I am guessing it is the same bird you saw. He had to be forced into the dream realm to find out about you… but he didn't see you in person…"

"He saw the bird…"

"Yes… the same you dreamt about" Glen affirmed.

"Is it me? Is the bird… me?"

"I'm afraid so"

"But… if you saw it dying, then does it mean I am going to die too?"

"Now… don't jump into conclusions… you only saw it dying… not dead. Neither you nor Dave saw it dead… which gives us hope. The success you had in the ritual tells me that there more to you than meets the eye. No… don't lose hope yet Jeff. Now get up from the bed and come… we have some things to discuss before we venture out tonight"

Mark left heading to the kitchen and his brother followed behind him. When they were far from the others, it was safe to ask.

"Do you believe he bought what you told him?"

Mark turned and leaning his back in the sink, looked at the back of the house the three men that were helping Jeff sit up and get dressed. At that moment and from the distance, Jeff looked at Mark as if he had guessed his thoughts.

"No, he knows the truth"

"Then why did you lie to him?"

"I didn't lie to him. Jeff knows that the road for him ends tonight. I lied for the others… especially for Dave. They can't lose hope or faith."

"Is he going to die?" For the first time a long while, Glen sounded distressed.

"I really don't know. He only knows the decisions he has to make and the road he can choose. It will be ultimately up to him to take the right path."

"Or the wrong one"

"Yeah… that too…"

"Can we trust him?"

"At this point, we have no choice."

"Yeah but what if the middle of the battle he switches sides… what if he kills us?"

"He survived the ritual didn't he?"

"I know… I'm saying… what if the elemental archangels were wrong? It wouldn't be the first time"

Mark sighed and crossed his arms. He didn't look at his brother and he didn't answer. He knew how much were at stake and he didn't like how much they were putting to chance. He had learned to plan everything and leave nothing to chance. This was the one case in his life where he truly didn't know… he couldn't see the bottom, just the surface. His brother had a point. The elements had made mistakes before, not many, but they had.

"I'll bring the pendant with me, tonight" he said.

Glen's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"The pendant?" His voice sounded ridiculously terrified. "Are you sure about this?" He grabbed Mark from his arm and made him face him.

"I know… don't look at me like that… Jeff is my friend too, he is like a family, but this is the one night we can't afford to make mistakes. There's much more to lose than our lives. The entire world will perish and burn to the ground if we fail… I can't risk it."

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Jeff was almost ready when he met Mark eyes from across the room. John and Dave were patiently helping him get dressed. He watched as the two brother were having a silent but heated discussion. He didn't need to guess to know that the subject was himself.

Mark's assurance about his dreams was a lie, he knew that as well. He figured that he had lied to put the minds of the others at ease. In his heart he knew that tonight most likely he would die… or worse…

He shuddered at the alternative… he just hoped that Mark and Glen would act before it would be too late.

"Hey are you OK?" John asked.

"Yeah… just a little cold, that's all."

He slowly continued to get dressed. He lifted up his eyes and saw Glen grabbing Mark's arm and bringing him face to face with him.

'That can't be good' the younger Hardy thought. Glen looked surprised, distressed and afraid. He saw Mark say something inaudible and jerk his arm away, a little frustrated and angry.

All gathered in the kitchen and sat down around the old table. Mark had a big book placed in front of him and Glen was lighting some candles to shed more light.

It was almost night.

The book was opened in a yellow old page. The letters were red but under the candlelight they looked black. The words were written in a language nobody but the Dead Man could read.

"When we enter the house, we will have no choice but to separate. Each of us must face his horseman alone."

"How do we go about destroying them? Will we have any weapons?" Cena asked.

"No… there is no precedent… this is the first time the horsemen will try and walk the earth… each of us will be alone and each of us will have to find their way in dispatching his foe."

"But we are mortals… we get hurt, we bleed and we die…" Dave was almost angry but he tried to put his temper under control and not let his voice rise. He wasn't scared about himself, but for all the men present. "These are demons we are talking about… they come from hell and they serve Satan…" his hit the table with his fist, fear rising in him. "How do you expect us to win?"

"When the time comes, you will know what to do… it may seem like an impossible task right now, but when you enter that house, it will all become clear. Just remember who you are, keep your faith and don't forget what matters most to you… what you keep close to your heart. Besides, it is no coincidence that you were chosen for this."

"What do you mean?" Cena was rubbing his forehead trying to understand.

"You are no simple humans. Each of you possesses strength and power. We can defeat them and when the time comes it will be revealed to us."

"Alright, but I still feel we are leaving much to chance. What if we go in there and nothing is revealed…"

"What do you want to hear?" Mark got angry and hitting his hand on the table got up, frustrated. All fell silent at this sudden outburst. If mark was acting this way, then things must be really more serious than they thought. "This is the first time something like that has happened in the history of humanity and everything I know, I know in theory. I know the lore, the scriptures and the Bible, I know what I am supposed to do and the theory is so vast and unending… don't you see?" He looked at them in despair. "No one knows what we are supposed to do and no one can help us… It is a heavy responsibility that has fallen on us, but we have no choice. We have been put together not by chance but because we were meant to… we met in this life time for this… this is what we were born to do… and I am sorry…" he stopped. Breathing was such an effort at this point. He had rarely lost his temper in his life… we was so used to be in control of everything in and around him that this was all knew to him. He didn't know how to react to this situation. All his life he had been training and preparing for this and now that the time had come, he was frustrated. He wasn't afraid, but so emotionally charged. He only wished he had had more time to prepare. Maybe there was a book out there he hadn't read, a piece of information he hadn't acquired… something that could help them. But the truth was that he knew all the books by heart and yet he felt like he knew nothing. He had been taught to exorcise demons, hunt down spirits but as far as he knew there hadn't been a man alive who had fought the forces of Satan and lived to tell the tale. All had died and all had failed.

He rubbed his forehead and whipped the sweat. He wasn't looking at them any more. He had regretted his outburst. He wanted to be in control because they would be looking at him for support and guidance. How could he have let his emotions control him? He took deep breaths trying to calm down.

"I am not afraid" John uttered and got up from his seat, a hard and defiant look on his face. "We won't fail. I believe we were born for this… and I would rather die the most painful death than turn around flee… than let them kill everybody we love without trying at least to fight. I don't expect you to have the answers to all the problems… you are here with us, by our side and together we will fight them."

"If this is the way to die, then I am with you brother…no matter what" Glen touched his brother's shoulder.

Dave in his turn stood up and walked to Mark.

"I am sorry if I yelled. I can't even begin to understand this and it is too much for me to swallow. You have been dealing with things like that all your life and I am sorry for questioning you. We all have so much to lose and the thought of us failing scares me. It was only hours ago that this started and the idea of the road we have travelled to get where we are, is… it's just too much to accept. My mind screams that this is all insane, that we are all madmen… but then my heart tells me differently. So I am with John in this… we won't fail… I am not afraid… not anymore…"

Mark nodded accepting his apology.

"All I know is that once we enter the house, the horsemen will attack us full force. They will be alone… until they are completely formed, they can't summon any demons and minions. Our time window will be small… minutes… maybe… for some of us the fight will be physical and for others it will be mental… that is all the truth I know… the rest is just unfounded speculation and unconfirmed information… now get ready… we leave in half an hour."

They scattered around the house, gathering the things and putting aside. Mark looked and saw Jeff still sitting on the chair in the kitchen. He had his feet up on the chair, knees drown together under his chin. His eyes were blurry, like he was forcing tears from surfacing. He hated crying in front of other people. His arms were wrapped around his legs and his nails were biting in his flesh. Mark brought a chair and sat next to him. He approached Jeff's face and lifted his face so he can look at him. His chin was firm, really trying not to cry.

"I am afraid" he whispered.

"I know…"

"Am I going to die?" he had asked the same question before, but this time he needed to hear the raw truth.

"Worse."

"But the ritual? Wasn't it a success?"

"The elements are known to have made mistakes of judgement in the past"

"So… there is a chance that Hell still controls me?"

"Yes" the answers came softly and honestly. Nothing was hidden and nothing was held back.

"Mark… I don't want to become one of them… I don't want to be the reason for the apocalypse… for our failure…"

"Don't worry about that… I won't let you…"

"Will you kill me if it comes to that? Dave won't do it…"

"If it comes down to that… I won't have to kill you…" He took out a pendant from his pocket. It was old and the silver shine had gone a long time ago. The chain was small and Jeff doubted it fit Mark's neck. The pendant itself was a combination of two letters, an X on top of a P. "This is a Christian symbol. The letters are Greek… the X-P are the two first letters of the Greek word for Christ…"

Jeff reached his hand to touch it but Mark pulled it away and placed it back in his pocket.

"Will it kill me?"

"No… Jeff… you have to realise, that in this fight, you dying is not an option. If you die, then hell gets a hold of your soul before it goes to heaven… they win…"

"Then what can I do?"

"Like us, you have to fight. But Hell has already taken a piece of you… you can feel it don't you?"

Jeff nodded and looked back down at his knees.

"Hell has taken a part of you, even if it was in a dream. You go into this fight in a disadvantage."

"Will this pendant help me?"

"In a way… yes."

"What will it do?"

"Incapacitate hell and… you… both… permanently…"

"I see… Mark… will you do something for me?" Jeff was done trying to hide his tears. Mark's heart broke when he saw them staining his face. The young Hardy's eyes blurriness had gone. They were shining, mirroring the darkness of the night and the realization of his sealed fate.

"Anything…" and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

"Will you be the one to do it?"

"Yes"

"After… will you be there for my brother? For Matt? He won't understand… he is going to need someone by his side to take care of him."

"I will… I promise you… don't worry… Jeff, can I ask you something? If you had a chance to leave, now, from this… would you? Knowing what awaits you…"

Jeff's chest was heaving trying to suppress the sobs.

"No…. it's not because I am noble or valiant. I am not as strong as the others. I am petrified… I don't accept what is happening to me and I really don't want it"

"Then why?"

"I do it for you… for them" and pointed at the three men in the room. "I do it for my brother… for my father… because I believe that this is important and above my selfish desire to live… because I believe you when you say that if I don't do it then all the people I love will die… I go tonight with you, feeling afraid and miserable. Knowing now that I won't die, doesn't help me… it makes it worse…"

"I really wish death was the answer"

"Me too… I am scared"

"I know… but when the end comes, we will all be by your side… you won't be alone. For all that matters, I wish I could trade places with you…"

"I know…"

"I would… in a heartbeat…"

"I know"

"I am sorry that this has fallen upon you"

Mark rest his forehead in Jeff's and closed his eyes. The connection he felt to this man was unfamiliar to him… but he like it. He simply wished it could last a little while longer. He felt the moisture of Jeff's tears and leaned over giving a chaste kiss on his cheeks.

"I am sorry I can't take your pain away" he tasted the salty tears in his mouth.

When he got up from his chair, Mark felt like he had a ton of bricks in his stomach. He left Jeff alone in the kitchen, knowing full well that he needed some time alone. The others met with him in the living room. They were done packing up their stuff and were waiting patiently and silently. When they heard footsteps all turned and looked. Mark stood a few feet away, hands in his coat's pockets, fisting the pendant, his face a mask of sadness and determination.

"It is time…" he said and walked out the door inviting wordlessly the others to follow.

And they all did…

All…


	12. CHAPTER 11 THE HOUSES

**CHAPTER 11****-THE HOUSES**

To Jeff time seemed to pass in slow motion. When they exited the abandoned house, the moment he stepped outside, time painfully slowed down. The night was colder than usual, as Mark pointed but was thankful that the rain had stopped. Jeff on the other hand, wished for some rain. He needed to feel the raindrops on his face…

Perhaps one last time…

It still bothered him the fact that he couldn't listen to the sounds of nature. It made his skin crawl to walk in the midst of trees, flowers and grass and not hearing any animal or bird. He knew that even in the night, nature never slept. If anything, the sounds of nature were amplified in the late hours; but now… nothing. Silence existed all around them. For one more time, he felt like he was walking in the void, hearing only the sounds his steps on the wet grass. He wondered if the others felt the same. John's look told him that he was as bothered about this as himself. He was looking around him, stretching his ears.

"There is still no sound"

The sound of his voice felt strange in this environment. It startled Cena, who turned and looked back at him with a crept out gaze.

"I know… it just creeps me out, that's all"

Jeff turned his face upwards and closed his eyes, sniffing the air.

"But it still smells like it's supposed to" A smile painted on his face when John followed suit and did the same.

Dave was behind them, chuckling at the two men standing in the middle of a clearing, at night, sniffing the air.

"I need this so much" Jeff finally said to John.

"Need what?"

"The air… nature… the smell…" he still kept his eyes closed. "I miss it"

John didn't reply. Instead he looked at Dave behind him and nodding, walked away. Batista came next to Jeff and looked at him amazed at 'the rainbow haired warrior'.

"How can you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Stand here, like nothing is happening… how can you be so calm?"

Jeff opened his eyes and looked back. Whatever serenity was on his face previously, it vanished in the blink of an eye, and in its place sorrow and desperation appeared.

"I'm sorry" Dave felt guilty for having ruined Jeff's moment. He went to leave, when Jeff's hand stopped him.

"Don't go… stay here for a while… we still have a few minutes before we go…"

It was strange like an out of body experience touching the larger man. He had done so many times in the past, in the ring and out, but since the beginning of all this, something had changed between them. Now, looking back, he wondered why he hadn't felt it before… the connection. Dave reached and took Jeff's hand.

"It is cold… you hand… aren't you cold?"

"No… I'm fine" he stated and looked at him as if in a trance. Dave felt like he was drowning in his eyes. The darkness was still there, but they also mirrored the stars. For a few minutes, between storms the sky was clear of the clouds and the stars and the moon cast their light upon them. In Jeff's eyes, they looked like a million Christmas lights.

"Jeff… what is happening between us?"

"I don't know… all I know is what I feel… what I have been feeling since yesterday, when you found me in the room… when… you touched me… when you are still touching me."

"I have been thinking… I don't know what I am feeling… what's in my heart… I feel sad…"

"Because of the time we missed together?"

"Yeah" Dave breathed, suddenly realizing what was in his heart; what he truly felt.

"It is when you touched me yesterday that I knew that we were supposed to be together united in some way… brotherly or… other… but we had missed the sings…"

"How could we not see it?"

"Maybe we were too involved with the rest of our lives to realize."

"Are we too late? I mean, is 'now' too late for us?"

"It is never too late" his smile grew wide on his face and his eyes shone brightly. "I just feel lucky to have found you… even if it is for a few hours."

"I don't want to loose you now that I have just found you"

Jeff's smile was gone and he became serious. Suddenly, he felt the cold penetrating his bones.

"Dave… I need you… I need you so much for this… all I know is that I can't do this without you."

"I am right here… with you… I will stand with you all the way"

"To the bitter end?"

"Don't speak of the end… now that I have found you, I know I can not live without you" the words were uttered without thought and without hesitation. He had to tell them to Jeff. The young Hardy looked at the bigger man with eyes wide open. There was not surprise in them, just the realization that he too felt the same.

"Yes you can… you have done in the past and you will in the future… I am sorry to be the one leaving you behind"

"Please don't speak like that…"

"Like what?"

"Like you are going to die"

"Why not?"

"Because I need you… I need to hope that when this is over, I can have you in my life… please…"

Jeff looked deeper into the eyes of the man in front of him. It didn't matter what he saw in them or what he himself felt… at this moment in time, here in this place, there was only one thing he could do…

Lie… or at least tell the half truth…

"I am not going to die… I promise you"

The relief on Dave's face was immediate. He had looked at the younger man, he had looked deep into the mirrors of his soul and at the utterance of these words, his heart felt like it had been unloaded a heavy burden.

They stood watching each other, neither making any move towards the other. They both wanted to, but it would complicate things… it was all too much and too soon…

'Maybe after this is over' Dave thought.

Jeff chuckled.

"I can still hear your thoughts"

"Oh… sorry…"

"Don't be… I kind of like it…"

Dave let a small laughter escape him. But again the smile on Jeff's face faded as soon as it had appeared. He too wanted to find out about this new feeling. He too wanted to know about Dave when this would be over…he too wanted to dream and hope for the future…

But knowing that the future for him would be dreadful was enough to make him tearful. The uncertainty of what awaited him; the thought of leaving his beloved ones behind made him want to cry.

"Don't cry… please… I don't want to see you cry"

"It's so hard… this is too hard…. I'm sorry" he apologized. "Please… will you do something for me?"

"Whatever you wish, I will do it"

"Just for now… for this moment… will you hold me? I feel so cold…" He shivered.

Dave brought his arms around the smaller man trying to warm up his cold body. He cradled him, wrapping his arms like wings, protecting him. His heart sped up from the touch; from skin on skin contact... everything turned inside him like a hurricane, destroying all logic and reason… everything was an untangled web… He dreaded how scared Jeff felt all of a sudden. On their drive up the mountain he was so calm. Now something had changed. He felt that there was something Jeff wasn't telling him and he wanted to press for answers. But the shivering man in his embrace and the miserable look on his face stopped him from doing so.

"We are ready… come on" Cena announced.

The two men stayed together for just a few seconds before parting.

They looked into each others eyes and said nothing more.

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The drive was silent and short. The distance they had to cover was small and they did it in absolute darkness. They didn't meet another car and all the lights were off. No streets lights, no house lights… nothing… as if the town was abandoned or dead.

"There aren't any lights outside… is it abandoned?" Dave asked while trying to look outside. The darkness was so thick that it seemed that the car was rolling on nothing but blackness.

"No, there are still people living here… but they won't come out at night…"

"Why not?" Jeff asked sitting on the other side of the back seat, next to John. He had deliberately out a distance between him and Dave because he wanted to see how it felt to be away from him.

"There are no shadows at night…" Glen answered.

"All evil is drawn into the house and everything else is wise enough to stay away…" Mark added.

As they came to the city centre, more houses appeared but still the distance from one house to the other was considerable. Moonlight appeared and for a moment they could see their surroundings. Each house was a two storey house, with big gardens surrounding them, with grass and flowers and occasionally a tree. All were well painted and the gardens well tended; nothing to indicate the evil that existed; nothing but the lack of lights and people.

"There it is" Mark announced and all looked in front of the car to the point were his finger was showing.

A few feet away was the exact centre of the town.

And there it was…

The house of evil.

It looked like the rest of the houses, only many years abandoned… all paint in the exterior walls had faded or chipped away… the plants had been all eaten by uncontrollable weeds that invaded every inch of the garden and the porch. The windows' glasses were broken but the blinds were still shut… In some windows, someone had boarded the blinds with wooden planks as if they were trying to keep someone inside. All entries were locked with chains and padlocks and at first glance no one could pass the front door.

The many shades of grey that dominated the exterior and the size of neglect didn't make them feel welcome. In a way, it was fitting, the way it had become… no one expected anything else.

They stopped the car in front of the house.

Each man was lost in his own thoughts and feelings and all looked at the house ahead, looming above them, hovering like a curse, like a giant mouth ready to devour them. Mark bowed his head in thought… he had seen the house before as a child and he knew the tales around it. He hadn't told the others not because he didn't want to scare them, but because he believed them to be true.

Because like people, houses too can be evil. And this was evil to its core… it had started from the ground to which it stood, sacred ground, an old cemetery that the church had sold to some constructor.

Three people had died building it and from the time it was finished till tonight, at least eight people had been killed inside and around it two of which were children. He only hoped they wouldn't add to that number their own lives.

Someone was squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. With the corner of his eye, he saw Jeff behind him, still looking at the house.

"It is frightening" Mark said.

"I wonder what the inside looks like" John Cena from the middle of the back seat could see the entire front porch in all its glory.

"I don't" Dave voiced his contraposition.

The first one to open the door was to the surprise of all, Jeff Hardy. He walked and stood in front of the car, crossing his arms in front of his chest. The others soon followed.

They stood only for a while. No one could think of anything to say in this moment. There was nothing to say anyway. There were no words to describe the way they felt, their multiple emotions in their heart, the turmoil in their minds.

But there was one thing common in all of them.

The calmness in their souls.

Together, they walked and marched the steps up the porch and to the front door. It wasn't locked. A small crack indicated that it was open. Light was coming from inside.

Mark took Jeff by the hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Together" he said.

"To the end…"

Mark took the first step and with his gloved hand, pushed the door. It opened soundlessly revealing them the interior.

"We come to it at last… the great battle of our time"

And got inside with the other four men following confidently.

The fight was about to begin.


	13. CHAPTER 12 TRUST AND BETRAYAL

**CHAPTER 12****-TRUST AND BETRAYAL**

Mark and Glen entered first followed by Dave and John…

Last one to enter was Jeff…

The door didn't close behind him.

He didn't have any view of the interior from him point of view, but he didn't need to see… not at this point.

It didn't matter.

He was here finally to do what he had to do.

What he was ordered to do whether he wanted or not…

Mark took a few steps and came to a halt as soon as his feet touched the thick dirty red carpet. It spread until the end of the room to a huge double dark brown door.

It was closed.

To their right another two doors existed, also shut and locked; to their left a large stairwell lead to the first floor were all was dark and no lights or windows could be seen.

The room was lit only by candles placed on the walls between the closed doors making their shadows longer than usual.

But it wasn't the décor that captured their attention or the unusual lighting.

In the middle of the room, on the centre of the house, the exact centre of this town, stood four cloaked figures, one next the other. Their robes were all black and the heavy shadows didn't make it possible to distinguish their faces. There was no apparent way to tell one from the other… they looked the same in every way. But Mark knew they were so very different. He figured they would soon reveal who was who… and who would fight who…

John stood behind the two brothers but he could clearly see every detail. He didn't look beside him to see what Dave was doing. He knew that he too was absorbed in what was ahead of him.

In his entire life Dave had learned to trust his instincts. He could always rely on them for the right thing to do. This time they told him to turn around and flee and it was so hard to ignore them. The sight in front of him was too scary but something made the hair of his neck stand up and send a shiver down his spine.

For a while no one spoke. The cloaked figures stood still but their robes were flowing like an invisible wind was circling the room. Mark had learned from his masters and teachers that this 'wind' was the breath of hell coming from the almost opened Gates of the Dark.

The Devil's breath.

At one point the rightmost figure lifted its right hand and pointed at it at Mark, marking him as his prey and enemy. The hand was leather gloved.

This made Mark smile to himself. It was an indication that they were not fully formed yet and not all their powers were available to them. They still had a chance.

One by one all the figures did the same, each one marking their opponent. From inside the hoods of their cloaks their eyes shone, like blurry lights. Red, white, pale…

"You have come…" said one

"We have been waiting for you"

"You are late"

"You will die nonetheless"

All their voices were exactly the same not male nor female and when they spoke it was hard to distinguish which one had spoken.

But there was something that still troubled Mark.

"Why are there only four of you?" Glen turned and looked at his brother realizing he had a point. According to the Bible and the scriptures there was supposed to be another one, a fifth presence… the one that follows the pale rider.

Hell…

"Where is your weapon, pale rider?"

Laughter deep and raw came from the pale rider but its body didn't move. It came from inside, and felt like was inside their heads.

"IT… is here"

"Tell IT to come out so we can start… " Glen's eyes shone with anger.

"And here we thought you had figured it out by now… it is amazing how ignorant you can be… and foolish" one cloaked shape said, amusement in its voice. "Humans are so easily manipulated and predictable; so dependent on emotions; you only have to remove one piece from the chess board and soon the king and his army crumbles to the ground…"

"The only piece I see missing is your weapon" Mark said to the pale rider.

"Are you sure?"

The gnawing feeling in him rose; it spread to his entire body making his heart squeeze in fear. He didn't want to believe it…

'How could it be true? Can it be true?' he wondered.

"You know it's true" said the black rider reading the Dead man's thoughts.

The front door closed loudly behind them, startling John and Dave.

All four men turned around to see…

And they saw.

Jeff was leaning against the door his head bowed down, his eyes and face not visible.

"Jeff?" Dave mumbled. His hand lifted to touch him but stopped in mid movement.

Jeff lifted his head and looked straight at them; a smug smile on his face, a smile of victory and malice. His eyes were all black, no whites no pupils… his eyeballs were pitch black.

"No" Dave whispered and retreated his hand.

"Yes" Jeff laughed and his voice came out sweet and melodic, but not his own. "Oh Dave… don't look so surprised… don't look so hurt"

"How can this be?" John asked them. "We did the ritual"

Jeff tilted his head to the right and kept smiling.

"Did you think that a witches' spell can go against me? I AM HELL… I CONTROL ALL THE ELEMENTS… I AM ALL THE ELEMENTS, FOOL"

Dave took a step back as the ground began to shake under their feet.

"Why do you recoil? There is no escaping for any of you now"

"All the things you said… what you told me, was it true? Any of it?"

"Will it make it easier to tell you that it was true? This vessel I possess is mine and has been mine for some time… I am still surprised that your precious Undertaker didn't detect me right away; the emotional attachment he has with Jeff Hardy is too great to allow him clarity. But if it is any consolation to you, in these last moments of your miserable pathetic life, yes, Jeff's feelings were his own. He had no idea that I was in him until now… I knew that if I made myself known to him, he would tell you or worse, kill himself… but your connection wasn't enough to break me out of him… but it almost did, back at the house… it almost did"

"But the Banishing Ritual is more than a witches' spell, and you know that, devil spawn"

Jeff guttural laughter made his head tip back… he was enjoying this too much.

"Oh my dear…." He said and eyed the dead man "that, it is…"

"We banished the elements you say you control, so how do you still possess him?" Glen asked.

"One of you gentlemen…" Jeff smiled slyly and looked at them one by one "during the ritual, had impure thoughts about Jeff… one of you…still does. Want to take a guess as to whom? Eh… Dave?" he asked him as he let his black gaze fall upon him. He had pronounced his name so hedonically. His tongue licked his lips sending shivers of lust at Dave.

It was then that Mark knew that the Ritual had failed. They had put their lives in jeopardy for nothing. Had he known about Dave's feelings towards Jeff, he would have never subjected them to such a dangerous ordeal; he would have chosen a different path.

"I'm sorry" Dave muttered "I didn't know"

"It is too late for that now" Jeff told them and took another step forward. Instinctively Dave and John took a step back and their feet met the red carpet. "Come with me … take my hand that I offer to you and be with me… take what you want and make it yours forever"

"No" and it was getting harder and harder to refuse him; refuse the tempting offer.

"You know you want to… all your life you had to struggle and fight and claw your way to the top… you have been refused what you wanted and needed and you've had doors closed at your face… for once, why don't you take want you want; what you need; what I offer to you freely"

"Not freely… Dave, this is not Jeff talking" Glen touched his shoulder.

Jeff took another step forward and came to a halt a few inches away from Dave. His hand was extended to him, an offering waiting to be claimed. He couldn't take his eyes off of Jeff. His mind told him to run away, his heart told him to take the hand and his soul to resist him and fight back. The passing moments brought Jeff's face a few inches away from Dave's and the sight of him started to consume him. The full lips, the cheeks, the long hair, the eyes… for a few seconds the eyes had returned to normal and they were looking at him so passionately, so lustfully and lovingly; bright, colorful and warm eyes…

Jeff's fingers were hovering above Dave's lips but he didn't make a move to touch them… he was waiting for Dave to do to final move; take the final step. The larger man felt a hand squeeze his heart and take his breath away… His chest heaving from the urges that consumed him, he felt his own hand lifting up, tracing a course towards the man in front of him.

John went to stop him but Mark's hand stopped him.

To his surprise, Dave grabbed Jeff by the wrist and brought his face even closer. His face was no longer a mask of confusion but one of anger and determination.

"I wouldn't touch you even if my life depended on it"

And threw him backwards with force. Jeff's head bounced against the door as he fell back but his smile didn't fade. His eyes had taken again their evil dark color.

"Pity… your life is not the only one depending on it… the whole world depends on it"

Dave was the one to take a step forward this time. His eyes shone with anger. He was angry at himself for believing the lie he was told, angry for allowing himself to be fooled and angry for losing Jeff to this Hell. His step brought him closer to him, but this time there was no question for his intensions and no man tried to stop him. His gestures were quick and powerful. Anger made his muscles tense up and his veins stick out. With one quick movement he grabbed Jeff by the neck and started squeezing it.

"I think… me… and the world would rather die than serve you"

Jeff made no effort to stop him and he didn't seem disturbed at all by the hand around his neck cutting of his air.

"Killing me… my beloved, would really mean, killing Jeff"

Instantly, Dave loosened his hand but did not remove it. He kept on looking into the black eyes trying to restrain his force.

"That is your worse flaw… your biggest mistake… and you will die for it"

Like an electric current passed from his hand to his head and down his spine, Dave was hit by an unnatural force that made his body jerk and stumble backwards. He fell on the floor and Cena came immediately to help him up.

"I'm sorry but this is not Jeff… not any more…"

"I know… I'm sorry too"

As he got up, with John next to him, the wind in the room picked up. The Devil's breath became stronger and hotter. It started flowing around the room but the candles were still alight and burned brighter than before drawing energy from the wind. All four men stood in the middle of the carpet, one close to the other.

The four horsemen still stood unmoving behind them and Jeff in front of them, still smirking. They couldn't take their eyes off of him. This betrayal was too much and they hadn't seen it coming.

"You should see the look on your faces… the utter disbelief… you were expecting it but really… now that is has happened, you look like lightning has struck down your house. It hurts doesn't it? The betrayal…"

Jeff was walking slowly towards them again, arms spread to the level of his shoulders, a mockery of Jesus on the cross.

"And what is really amusing, is that you asked me if I was going to betray you… did you honestly think that I would tell you the truth? Jeff didn't know what hit him! Or when it hit him!"

"Stop talking about Jeff like he is dead" Cena barked.

"My poor poor boy… in a way, Jeff is dead" came the reply from the always melodic and lustful voice. "Like the rest of you will be, soon enough". He snarled the last words, but the once beautiful mouth and the luscious lips were gone in the blink of an eye. Replaced by black lips who matched the color of his eyes, a long forked decayed tongue, and a row of sharp nail-shaped teeth, he brought his hands forward revealing long rotten but sharp fingernails.

"Your end is tonight" spoke one of the horsemen behind them.

They all turned around, each man facing the horseman he was going to fight.

"We are not afraid" Mark yelled through the noise of the wind swirling around them, burning hotter and hotter.

"We came here to fight" Glen took a step forward

"We will win" John Cena was determined now more than ever.

"Or die trying" Dave Batista was still looking at Jeff, still unable to digest the treachery.

"Then die you shall"

The voices spoke together and the wind became a torrent, swiping everything in its passing. Air and earth, fire and water, all the elements united, conspiring against them, burning them and drowning them, choking them and hurting them.

All covered their eyes.

The Apocalypse stood before them.

And Hell waited behind them.


	14. CHAPTER 13 THE WHITE RIDER

**CHAPTER 13****-THE WHITE RIDER**

He uncovered his ears and opened his eyes once he realized all the madness around him had died down. It felt strange because he hadn't even realized he had been covering them in the first place. He expected to find himself in the old house along with the others but instead he found himself kneeling on the ground in the field of his dreams. The green grass looked as perfect as he remembered it.

Instinctively he stood up and looked frantically around expecting to see his foe. But there was no one there. In the distance he could see a form lying on the ground but it was too far away to see who or what it was. The sky above him was clear but for a few white clouds. The lack of presence of the sun rendered him unable to tell what time of day it was.

John looked around him once more and allowed himself to take a breath. It made him feel worse. Not knowing where he was at was disturbing, but not knowing where the others were and what they were doing was even more alarming.

He remembered the voice in his dreams, a woman's voice; he recalled how soothing it was to hear her, having her by his side. He wished she was there now, even in sprit.

He wished he didn't feel so alone.

Taking the first step took him by surprise. He had convinced himself in the last few moments that like in his dream, his body wouldn't obey… that he would fall.

But nothing.

'Why doesn't anything happen? Where is the white rider?'

He turned and looked at the fallen form in the distance and decided to approach it.

Coming near it didn't take as long as he thought it would. When he came close to it by a few feet, he saw what it was; the dead white horse from his dream. It was no longer breathing and life in its eyes had been gone for too long; the sight made John almost take pity in it. The arrow was still stuck in its eye and the black tar that once was its blood had dried on the ground, making the grass around the horse deceased. The smell was that of a slaughterhouse and it made his stomach turn.

Hesitantly he reached his arm to grab the arrow. Somehow he was sure he was going to need it. He didn't want to pull it because doing so would mean pulling it from the liquid glazed eye… and that idea was more revolting.

He rubbed his palms on his shirt, wiping away the sweat. He looked questioningly around once more seemingly waiting for someone to tell him what to do.

'You have to trust yourself… trust your judgment… you were chosen for this and you have to do whatever is necessary, whether you want to or not'

Speaking to himself in his mind wasn't making things easier. Something in his gut told him that once he removed the arrow he would have only a few minutes left to fulfil his destiny.

If there was something he didn't like in the movies was the stalling… he hated the scenes where the hero took forever to open a door or take a gun from a corpse. He hated more that he was doing now exactly the same thing. So with one single move he reached and grabbed the arrow. Thinking it would be stuck too deep he used all his strength to pull it out but he found no resistance at all, it slid out making him stumble backwards ungracefully.

Traces of the horse's black blood was still on the point of the arrow. John held it tightly against his chest.

The transformation of his surroundings was immediate. The sky changed and the clear blue colour faded giving its place to a steadily illuminating bright white. The clouds weren't present any more. They had vanished in the midst of all the light. The grass under his feet began to stir and a cold wind blew against his body from an unknown source.

The wind carried a far cry of a million voices; voices of tortured souls from the bowels of Hell; of sinful souls condemned to eternal suffering for the sins committed in life.

And they were so deafening.

But before he could react, the ground began to change as well. The grass started to die and rot. He looked behind him and then he saw the white rider. His hands were no longer gloved but whiter than fine porcelain. The cloaked figure stretched out its bony fingers and let them hover above the ground.

The grass was ice but still John didn't feel the cold. He kept the arrow against his chest and looked at the figure ahead.

"Is this all you've got?" he challenged the white rider in defiance knowing full well that more would follow. He would have to act however sooner that the rider if he wanted to live.

The cloaked figure stepped forward, with fluid movements that revealed nothing for what lay underneath. It was a bizarre sight to behold this black cloaked figure in such a white environment. He always thought that the white rider would look… whiter.

It was when it took a second step that John reacted. Like he had done so many times in the past, in and out of the ring, he acted on instinct, without thought. He lunged forward towards the white rider. He stretched his hand and pointed the arrow to the hooded head, intending to kill with it.

The bone fingers tensed and the arm was raised in the blink of an eye towards John. An invisible force collided with him and threw him out of his trajectory. John landed some feet away from the white rider, close to the dead horse. Pain was all he could feel. His head felt like it was being hit by millions of steel hammers. He brought his hand to his head in a desperate attempt to ease the pain and it was then he saw he was still clutching the arrow, He looked at it in determination and them back at the white rider.

It hadn't moved from its position.

"Human nature always amuses me… I would like to play a game with you…" the cloaked figure spoke gaining John's attention. "But this game has consequences, not only on you but also on someone else"

"Who?"

"One of your fellow warriors"

"What game is this you speak of?"

"A simple game really… you have an arrow in your hand… one that belongs to me and I need it…"

John couldn't help smile now that he knew he had a weapon, some sort of advantage in this game.

"The game you will play is this… I happen to know that one rider holds the life of a friend of yours in his hands right now… if you chose to keep the arrow for yourself, then your friend dies… but if you give me the arrow then your friend lives and together you can walk away from this alive and unharmed"

"How do I know what you day is true?"

The white rider raised again his hand and pointed at John. This time the pain in his head grew considerably and he couldn't help but scream. The pain was coming from the centre of his mind, from the very depths of his consciousness making him see vivid images and visions like they were occurring right in front of his eyes.

And what he saw was distressing.

He saw fire and a sea of blood. He saw the world burning and the people becoming ashes in the midst of incessant screaming and agony. He saw people he knew all his life, people he cared for and loved blister away, vanish in the flames and die horribly.

He saw his father burn, his hands tearing away flesh from his bones as the pain grew uncontrollably. He saw eyes become liquid and empty eye sockets looking into nothingness… he saw flesh burning…

And he could take it any more.

"Stop it" he yelled but the images persisted.

"You don't have a choice but play this game… you must see it all"

New images came to him and filled his head. In the middle of this hell, up on a small hill, amongst burned black wood, blood and death, there was the red rider. He stood up straight in the summit wielding a two handed sword in his hand. What broke John's heart was the sight of Glen broken and defeated kneeling in front of him, bloodied, bruised, cut and hurting.

John couldn't know that if what he saw was true. It looked like Glen had given his fight against the red rider and had lost it.

His eyes looked so hurt and sad for having lost… for being forced to kneel down despite his will and wait for death to come to him… for eternal damnation. Blood ran from his wounds on his beat body… bones were broken and blood ram down freely…

And John didn't want to know what Glen had done to become like this… the fight between them…

When the white rider spoke, the red also turned his gaze and looked back, as if he was expecting an answer from John. Glen showed no signs of acknowledging their presence.

"If I give you the arrow, do you promise to let him live? Let us both live? "

"I promise" the white rider replied and came closer to John.

Invisible steps brought him close and when John looked back up, the white one stood a few inches away from him with his creepy hand outstretched waiting for the arrow.

The painful images were still engraved in his head. It had hurt to see his fired beaten down and defeated. He wished Mark was there to tell him what to do, advise him. He wondered what mark would do if he saw his brother like that. Would he give the arrow to the rider? Would he sacrifice his brother in order to save to world?

He hated being to one having to take such a decision. He had no problem deciding for his own life and take responsibility for his actions, but why would he have to decide whether Glen would live or die.

It felt like he was in a dream again, only this time he knew better. He had no idea how he had come to this place but he hated it. He closed his eyes, just for a few moments wishing for this to end, wishing for this to be indeed a dream. Desperation was in his heart and neither choice was really a good one for him.

Choosing to save Glen and himself would mean betraying the others and the world; it would mean helping the four horsemen walk this earth again and reek havoc; it would mean bringing the world one step closer to the apocalypse.

Choosing not to give the arrow back, would mean his death and the death of Glen, and in his mind that was almost the same thing. He could see it clearly in him mind; the moment he would hand the arrow, Glen head would fall on the charred ground, cut off from the rest of his lifeless body. This option would mean that the white and the red rider would win.

"Neither is a choice I want to make"

"But you have no other alternative"

"But I do" John smiled. He still had the arrow and the images of the red rider were still playing in his mind like a movie. "Why do you want this so much?" he asked knowing the answer somehow, but wanted confirmation.

"It is mine. I made it… it is my weapon and it is part of me"

John's smile grew wider. He didn't know if the white rider intended on giving him this information but now he knew finally what he had to do.

"This game is over. You loose" John managed to get up on his feet and extend the arrow, holding with both hands. When the white rider stretched his hand to take it, John laughed again.

"You can not win this. You loose this game, white rider"

And with one single fluid movement, he broke the arrow in two pieces.

The white rider screamed a long throaty shriek. His robes began to flow angrily in the icy wind and his bony hands clasped his hooded head.

"You can't do this" it screamed and backed away

"I just did… I win"

Still holding the two pieces, John lunged forward this time not intending to miss his target. He didn't hear his own screams of war as he fell onto the white rider. The impact was powerful and it hurt John. His mind registered the pain but he chose to ignore it. It took him seconds to do what he had to.

The two pieces of the weapon were brought violently to the riders head. One was thrust deeply to the left side of the hooded head while the other was stabbed on its black face.

The results were immediate. The vision of the red rider vanished, leaving John questioning if it was true or just a trick. The ice cold disappeared and the grass began to take its green colour. The horse was no longer beside them and the white rider was dying, melting and fading.

John felt no pity although he thought that maybe he should. He looked at the dying white rider and suddenly he didn't want to see any more. He just wished to go back; back to the house and help the others.

Once he turned his back and took the first step away, cold wind blew against his back and he managed to turn his head; just in time to see the white rider attack him one last time before the end.

The blow hit him straight in the chest and made him fall back, hitting his head on the ground roughly. He was loosing consciousness fast. Through blurry eyes, he turned his head to the left slightly, just enough to see the white rider fading too in the distance.

"You have won this time… but my brothers will be victorious and none of this will matter… I will come back… and the first one I'll take will be you… you will be my slave and you will suffer for all eternity…"

If the white rider spoke something else, John didn't hear it. Darkness and unconsciousness claimed him and part of him was thankful that his ordeal was finally over. With the last part of his still lucid mind, he prayed that the others had better luck. God only knew they would need it to save themselves and Jeff.


	15. CHAPTER 14 THE RED RIDER

**CHAPTER**** 14-THE RED RIDER**

Glen had given many battles in his life, many of which were harder than anyone could imagine. Few were the people who had suffered as much as he had and lived to talk about it.

Of course he never talked about it. When his brother had found him all those years ago, back in his home town, ready to kill himself, he only had to look in despair and Mark had known the suffering he was put through. And they never spoke about it.

His life had made him hard, tough and strong. It had made him a little cold and distant; and he had chosen consciously not to be involved in any sort of powerful emotions. He had leaned to close his heart, his mind and his soul to all feelings that could hurt him and break this wall he had built around him.

The only person who could peak through this wall was his brother, and that he had done a handful of times.

When he had walked into the house with the others, he had known that when this would be over, something would change inside him. He had a bad feeling about this entire ordeal. Being blessed with the gift of vision and foresight, it kind of disturbed him to walk into that house and 'see' what he saw.

He should have told Mark about this. He could read all men beside him. Their auras had been so strong and their feelings so intense as they had walked into the house.

Mark had felt like the weight of the world rest upon his shoulders. He'd felt responsible for the lives of the others that walked with him. There had been determination and anger too. Mark had known what he would have to do and what his role in this would be; Glen hadn't been jealous of him. Before the end, Mark would have to decide for the life of one of his friends and probably he would have to kill one of them.

John's eyes had betrayed him. Glen didn't have to look into his heart to see what he felt. He would do anything he had to, to save his friends, his family and this world. But to him, family and friends came first. He would rather die than see them dead; especially like this.

Dave on the other hand had felt worried and a little afraid, but not for his life; for Jeff's. There had been another feeling present but as long as Dave hadn't acknowledged it, Glen couldn't tell what it was.

But Jeff… that had been stranger of them all. He had known him for many years and there hadn't been a moment in time where Jeff hadn't felt something. There had been times in the past where Jeff was such a torrent of different emotions that it had been hard to keep up. There had been times where Glen had a hard time dealing with all the sentiments that came from the young Hardy. Now it was strange to see him walk and feel nothing. It disturbed him as he expected to receive all different kinds of emotions. But Jeff walked into that house feeling absolutely nothing.

Glen wanted to tell his brother, but he had stopped deciding against it.

A few minutes later however he had regretted it.

The betrayal had cost them but most importantly, it had cost Dave who had felt like he had been stabbed in the back by Jeff. And Glen daren't think what the consequences of this action would be on the fight against the four riders.

Then it had happened.

Jeff had been corrupted after all. And the ritual had failed.

They had failed and Jeff would pay the price whether they would win or loose.

It hadn't mattered why the ritual had failed. Mark had told him that the parameters of the banishing ritual were so many in order for it to work properly, that in all history only a couple of times it had work like it was supposed to. But he hadn't expected for Jeff to wait in the last moment to betray them.

When the door had closed and the masks had been dropped, when he had looked at Jeff there wasn't any trace of the old self left. All the essence of Jeff Hardy had been consumed and devoured by Hell.

Why hadn't Mark seen it je didn't know. Maybe he had been too emotionally involved with Jeff to see…

For whatever the reason, things had gone really bad.

And now there he was.

Separated from the others, alone in another plane of existence.

If this was where the red rider's domain, he didn't want to think what hell looked like.

All around him fire. He stood in the middle of a clearing amidst tall trees set ablaze, huge tongues of flame devouring every living thing. Hot air and wind made his skin sweat.

It didn't take him long to realize where he was.

This looked like the forest he used to live when he was a child; back when he was so brutally abused… these were the woods he had hated so much. He could still recall all the times his foster father had come to his room and abused him; all the times he was forcefully violated, he was always on his stomach because 'he didn't want to look at his face', like he used to tell him while he was raping him; all those times he had his face turned away looking outside the open window, to the dark woods, praying for salvation, praying for the end to come. But it had never come from the forest… he had eventually given up waiting for someone to come and had hated to woods with all his being.

Salvation had come much later and not too late, and it was in the face of his lost brother.

And he still hated these woods; and it only made sense to be here at this time

He head a loud noise to his right; burning trees breaking and falling and loud steps coming from within the flames. The red rider immerged from inside the fire, unscathed and unharmed and he looked like he was made of it; feeding off of it. The black robes covered his entire body and on his let hand he was wielding the two handed sword Glen had been dreaming about all his life.

He wasn't afraid; he had stopped being afraid the moment he had stepped out his step father's house and ventured into the wild looking for his salvation… hear was no longer part of his life. He didn't have any regrets if this was his end. He had made his peace a long time ago. And despite all, he had nothing and everything to lose. Despite the effort he had put to not feeling anything, when he saw the red rider taking strong decisive steps towards him, something inside him stirred and awakened.

"You have nothing that I want and there is nothing you can give me to spare your life" the red one said and his voice, melodic and sweet broke through the noise of fire and destruction.

Glen smirked and rubbed his hands together preparing for battle.

"I can tell you the same thing."

The sword swung from his right aiming his head but Glen ducked low and avoided it the last moment. The next one came faster than the first and luckily he was able to avoid t aw well, crouching lower. However there was no way to avoid the red rider's free right hand that punched him hard to the side of his head and threw him backwards. The sword fell again, this time aiming to his chest and Glen rolled over to his side and came to his feet once more.

At this point, he didn't have any clue as to what it would take to kill the red monster. He had no weapon to use against him and thus far he was too busy trying to save his own skin.

They faced each other, one measuring the other.

The red rider lunged at him again quicker and more violently this time. The flames leaped higher and higher, until there was nothing else left. The fiercer the attacks became, the stronger the fire grew. The sword was coming at him from all directions, fast and violently and Glen was forced to fall down and duck in all directions. It was clear what the red one wanted to do.

Tire him until he had no choice but surrender.

What was more disturbing was the fact that he showed no signs of weariness; he still kept that huge sword with the same vigour and energy and the blows each time seemed to be getting more furious and angrier. Both knew that Glen wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer.

He didn't know how long he had spend trying to avoid the sharp blade but he was now kneeling on the ground too close to the flames trying to catch his breath. His opponent was a few feet away holding the sword in front of him with both arms. Then he did something that made Glen's heart sink. The hilt of the sword glowed and it broke into two different equally sized swords; each one for each of his hands.

The red rider didn't speak. He took a step and spun the two swords in his hands.

Glen felt the fire behind him double in size and heat. He had to act before the red rider's attack. He dove aiming to take him down with the weight of his body.

But the red warrior had anticipated this move and was no stranger to the art of war. Imitating Glen, the last moment stepped aside. Glen fell face first on the ground, and immediately felt both tips of the swords on the back of his neck.

"On you knees" the red rider ordered and Glen unwillingly obeyed. He didn't fight back because he needed to gain some time to think and reacting now would mean death. He slowly turned and came to his knees. The rider crossed the two blades against his neck; one single thrust and they would cut his head clean.

But nothing happened. The red rider stood still looking down at him, waiting.

Glen was given a few moments to catch his breath and maybe find a way out. He had no idea why he wasn't dead yet but he had a feeling that one of his friends had something to do with it. Using his gift he searched the plane around him to find who it was. It didn't take him long but it was faint and fast fading; a white glow in a far corner of his consciousness. Images of an arrow and an ice cold domain invaded his mind. John Cena held his life in his hand; he was playing into the game of the white rider.

Glen wanted to scream and tell him not to do it, not play a game he didn't know the rules and in a place where the white rider was something of a god. But he didn't… it would be no use because John wouldn't be able to hear him. Instead he focused on his own peril.

How the defeat the red rider.

He took a glance around him and all he saw was fire. It grew with the rider's anger and every time there was an attack, the flames had grown…

Now that the rider was waiting, the fire was still strong but not it had been a few moments before.

'How do you fight fire?'

The first think that came to mind was 'water' but there was one around. The only sign of liquid was his own sweat and he doubted it would help.

'Then what else?'

The rider at that point looked away to the distance like he was watching something happening next to him that only he could see.

Glen took the opportunity to act. Slowly he lowered his hand just enough to reach the ground and take a handful of dirt. That was the only way he could defeat fire. And he prayed to God it would work.

In his mind he heard a shriek and the red rider twitched. For a fleeting moment he felt the mind of John and he smiled. He had made the right choice.

The blades moved in lightning speed but Glen had expected it. He pushed his body backwards and the blades passed just above his face, scratching his jaw and he fell on the ground. It was while he was falling he threw the handful in dirt on the red rider.

The reaction was instant. The rider stepped back and let one of his swords fall on the ground. His shriek was the same he had heard the white rider utter a few moments ago. Glen took another fistful of dirt and threw it to the rider once more causing him to step back. He took the sword that lay on the ground in front of him and held in both hands.

The power of it was immense and he felt it ran through his veins as soon as he touched it. He couldn't wait for the rider to snap out of the shock. He swung it, weighing it in his hand and attacked the red one.

The blow was aiming the head of the monster but its twin blade cut its course just before it hit its target. The clang of steel made the fires blow up for a while and then subside in volume. Rider and man came face to face, one inches from the other. Glen was sweating and heaving from the effort. All his muscles ached and were stretched beyond normal. But his face was painted with the colours of fury.

"Now you die" Glen whispered. Forcefully, the pushed his opponent's blade aside and turned his body around on its axis. It was a move the rider didn't expect because as soon as Glen came back facing him, the blade had already been pushed point first to the side of the rider's neck and had exited from the other side.

This time, there was no shrieking sound, no noise and no movement. The fires around died in the blink of an eye and the rider stumbled back away from the human who had defeated him.

Glen stood in the middle of the burned wood watching the rider die. The robes didn't flow in the still of the night but instead they seemed to melt to the ground. His body became liquid and slowly began to loose height.

It took a few heartbeats and there was nothing left but two swords.

The red rider was no more.

Glen took the two swords in his hands and brought them close together. The hilt shone again and the blades once more became one. He knew this was a weapon of evil and it could not be allowed to exist. The essence of evil would exist as long as it did.

He had to destroy it.

He looked around and saw a rock just before a large burned tree. He walked to it and brought the sword above his head ready to destroy it against the rock.

But the power it held was so huge. He could only imagine what he could do with it… the world at his feet… all the power, the money and the glory he would want. All would worship him like a God. He would be God… he could see as clear as daylight the crowds under his feet tremble in fear and admiration… the blood flowing like rivers because he had wished to… its power was like a drug… so dangerous and so addictive. Once he got a taste of it he wouldn't want to let it go.

His hands trembled and the sword seemed to weight a thousands tons.

"I would rather die than became a devil's spawn" he screamed and he was surprised to find himself crying. The blade hit the rock and broke in millions of pieces.

Glen fell to his knees, hands still trembling and his face wet from the last traces of tears. He had almost given in. in the last temptation of the devil.

Almost.

He closed his eyes and drew a long breath.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in the house, on the red carpet kneeling in front of one of the two doors on the right side of the wall. He looked to his left.

John's body lay on the ground in front of the other closed door.

"John!" he called but got no answer. He went to reach him but his body ached and it didn't seem to obey his will. He fell clumsily on his left and crawled to his friend.

John's body was cold and his hand was bleeding from the arrow scar he had received a few days ago.

"John… wake up" he pushed his body. It was cold while his own was feverishly hot. He cupped John's face with his warm hands and spoke again. "Open your eyes… come on…"

His eyes fluttered open and it took John much effort to focus. Seeing Glen above him made whatever anxiety he had put at ease. He didn't need to speak.

"You won John… we both did… thank you for making the right choice"

John was too cold to answer. He simply smiled and allowed to be sat leaning against the door. He looked around for the others but there was no one else. He looked at Glen questioningly. He noticed the scars on Glen's face and tried to lift his arm but the cold in is body still made his limbs heavy.

"Hurt?" he mumbled

"I'll be fine" he said quietly. "I've had worse" and John really believed him.

"Others?"

Glen looked around but there was no sign of them. Mark had been correct when he had told them that they would be separated.

"I don't know. I can't sense them at all."

"Jeff?"

No sign of Jeff either. Glen sat beside John, close to him so his body heat could warm him up a little.

"Is he dead?" he asked shivering.

Glen bowed down his head and didn't answer.

"Can you sense him?" John asked each passing moment finding his voice.

"I haven't sensed Jeff since the moment we left our house."

"Is there any chance for him?"

"Not much…"

"Will Mark kill him?"

"No. I know my brother… he will try all the possible solutions before death. This time, Jeff's death only helps the devil's plans."

"Then what will happen?"

"Mark and Dave have their own battles… and I have a feeling that, like you were involved in mine, Mark will be involved in Dave's. I don't know what part Jeff has in all this and I dare not guess. But it can't be good"

"For who? Mark or Dave?"

"For Jeff"

They fell silent. There was nothing else to say. All they could do now was wait.

And so they waited.


	16. CHAPTER 15 THE BLACK RIDER

**CHAPTER 15-THE BLACK RIDER**

When he had seen Jeff smiling cunningly and that evil smirk spread across his face, he had felt so betrayed and sad. He was angry as well but at himself. How could he have acted so carelessly? Had his emotions clouded his judgement?

Yet he had spoken to Jeff about it. They had talked back at the house and Mark had warned Jeff about the possibility of him not surviving. He had foolishly told the young Hardy about what he would do and he had revealed his weapon against Hell… the pendant.

That was another mistake. Hell was already inside Jeff, dormant but aware enough to see and hear everything. There was no way Jeff would have known. If he had there was no doubt he would have told them or even acted upon it, trying to chase it away from inside him.

And then there was the banishing ritual.

That was another thing. The details of it were so many, the parameters and the aspects they had to cover were almost impossible to control.

Almost.

He knew that from the start and yet he had decided to perform it, in the slight possibility it would work putting their lives and Jeff's at great risk. There was no way he could know that the only thing he couldn't control would be Dave's feelings. As long as he remembered being taught the banishing ritual, no one had ever told him this aspect. He had strained himself thin trying to chase away all the elements; trying to cover every detail… he had done everything but one thing.

Control Dave's feelings.

No one was to blame; not Dave and not himself… there was no way he could know they would fail… it hadn't happened before probably due to the fact that never in past were the participants emotionally involved with each other or with the centre of the ritual. And they all were; with each other and with Jeff.

It was a detail that no one had ever bothered to teach him partly because he was always told not to get emotionally involved. But now it seemed that this was all Hell needed to sneak its way and hide deeper into poor Jeff's mind and soul.

When the door had closed behind Jeff, Mark had known immediately that this would end badly; that none of their lives would ever be the same ever again.

He had been praying that he wouldn't have to use the pendant but he had taken it with him just in case. It seemed that he would have no other choice but use it... in the end.

He wasn't standing in the middle of the house any longer. There was no carpet under his feet but dirty naked concrete. Slowly he opened his eyes but didn't remove his hands from his coat's pockets. The pendant was there.

He sighed in relief.

He looked around calmly and saw nothing but a four by four empty room. Grey walls surrounded him; a steel door was behind him and a disturbingly familiar window stood high up in the furthest wall of the room.

It was closed.

His heart squeezed when he remembered this was the same room he had first encountered a demon; he remembered the fear he had experienced when at twelve years of age, the demon had come inside from the window and attacked him.

"Playing with my childhood fears won't help you. It's been long since I have put them to sleep" he addressed the black rider and his deep voice fell empty on the walls. No answer came but he knew he wasn't alone. The rider would have to reveal himself sooner or later.

He tried to open the door and wasn't surprised to see it was locked. If memory served him well, this door weighed too much and locked from the outside with steel bolts.

He turned around and looked at the window. It was still closed. For some reason he wished it would open so he could get over with it. Start this fight. The sky outside was black, meaning it was night time. No stars were visible and no clouds were present.

No moon either.

And that was a good thing.

Because the moon always changed people, it somehow transformed them into something they were not, whether this was their behaviour or their appearance. Being taught by teachers all the sciences of old, he lad learned that the human body was 65% made of water. The changes of the moon affected the water of the earth, hence the tides and the ebbs. And it only made sense that the human body was also affected by the moon.

But that was not what worried Mark. In his life, he had seen people change because of the moon, especially the full moon. Those times, things had ended up messily for all involved, especially the changed people. He didn't want this to be one of these times. So when he didn't see the moon but complete darkness outside, he was thankful.

Then a shadow passed from the window. He recalled this room was below ground level and the window was just above the ground. If anybody passed from the outside he could only see their feet. But this time, there were no feet… a presence stood behind the window and soundlessly, it opened it.

Now all the creatures of the night, good or bad could venture inside.

And one creature did.

The familiar from his past black mist started to creep inside just like he remembered it had done all those years ago. But this time Mark knew better. He knew exactly what this was and what it wanted. He stood unmoving near the back wall, his face cold and unemotional. The mist crawled from the wall down to the ground and hovered before Mark for a few moments.

Then it started to rise and gain height and volume. It started to form hands, a body and head… a hooded black head. Soon enough the black rider stood ominous and complete.

"Were you the one that came to me when I was twelve?"

"Yes" came the reply in a hissing growl.

"Thank you"

"For what?"

"If it hadn't been you then I wouldn't have known the existence of my brother. It is you who gave me the power that I have today"

"You dare mock me human?" the rider hissed angrily. "Know, that your life hangs by a thread and if you are alive today it's because I wish it"

"You lie. I am alive today because you failed to kill me when a was a small boy"

"Perhaps… but that is not the case with your master… you remember who I am talking about… your first teacher… the one with white hair and the white beard… "

Mark looked at him blankly remembering his first beloved kind teacher.

"Ah… yes… I can see you remember him. It is I who killed him in the dessert; and how he begged for mercy in the end! It is impressive what humans say they will do to spare their life. The amount of humiliation and violence they can take! And believe me when I say that the old man really had it in him… I have never seen a man disgrace himself so much and do such things!!!"

"What did you do?" Mark asked anger welling inside him.

"Let's just say that if number 10 is the most hideous act of sexual perversion known to man, we reached number 9!" and laughed.

Mark knew that these demon spawns lied, especially if it meant reaching their goals sooner. There was no way he could tell if this was the truth. He had to admit that he felt hurt hearing these words. He had never been told what had happened exactly to his teacher. Maybe the truth would be too painful for a young Mark to know or even grasp. But then again… maybe nothing like that had happened. Maybe he had died honourably and courageously.

"And since we are talking about failure, let's talk about you" the black rider continued.

"No stop it" Mark ordered. "I am done listening to you. I am done playing this game and I will not fall into this trap."

"The white rider plays games, but his are games of the mind. The red rider plays games too, those of strength… I play games of destruction"

"And what about the pale rider? Does he play games?"

"No… the pale rider doesn't play games at all… he is death and that is why hell follows him"

Mark looked at the cloaked figure and waited for what would come next. The rider folded his hand and took out from the robes a balance. It was old and the once silver coating had faded into a dirty shade of grey. He placed it on the floor in the middle of the distance that separated them.

He stepped back,

"My game is destruction." He started. "You came tonight into the house you feared so much… and for a reason. But you didn't come alone. You knew the dangers that lay inside and yet you brought company. You brought your family and your dear friends as well. You have brought them to their possible death."

"Your point being?"

"Tonight, you hold two lives in your hands. One will die and other will live. My game is who will die and how…"

"I won't play God"

"It is not a choice"

"Unlike the others, I know better than play a game to which you have made the rules."

"It doesn't matter if you play. One will die anyway. I am simply giving you the opportunity to save the one you hold closer to your heart." The rider pointed the balance. For now both sides were on the same level. On one side he saw a multi coloured feather and one the other he saw a glass heart. "Care to guess whose life is in danger?"

"I don't have to" Mark whispered. He knew that the feather was Jeff and the glass heart was Dave. It made sense. But if Hell had already claimed Jeff then there was no point in playing. Hell would never give up its hold on him just because the black rider had played a game with him. Hell didn't obey the black rider, only the pale one.

And that it did simply because the pale rider was death and he fed hell with souls.

There was no reason to decide for Dave either for the same reason.

"You cannot play a game with pieces that you don't control black one"

Mark spat and taking a few steps, he kicked the balance away. It flew away to the right and fell on the wall where it dissolved into powder and vanished.

The black rider twitched under his robes.

"Whatever you do… this game will take place… Jeff is corrupted and controlled by hell and Dave is alone with him… he has no choice but to fight them both. In the end Dave will have to kill or be killed."

Another similar balance appeared where the old one stood with the feather and the glass heart in place.

"Why would the pale rider and Hell help you?"

"Because I am the black rider and only I can break the seal and allow the pale one to walk the earth"

Mark remembered the scriptures. They spoke of an innocent who would break the first seal and let the white rider loose. The white rider would break the seal and let the red rider free. And in turn the red rider would open the door for the black one. Finally, the black one would open the door for the pale rider and hell to walk and wreak death.

He had no idea who was foolish enough to break the first seal but it didn't matter at this point. The first seal had been broken and the white one was free to open the gate for the red rider. He thought about John and his fight. He wished he had a way of telling him what he knew now. But he was his friend and he trusted him to do the right thing. John was smart and brave. When the time would come for him to face his foe, he would make the right moves…

Besides, if he had failed, he would know about it because the black rider would gloat and rub it in his face.

No… John was either still fighting or he was victorious.

If Glen had died or lost, then he would have known. The strong bond the two brothers shared would set off the alarms in his heart and he would know.

Nothing was decided yet. The black one held no power over John or Glen and he was not truly set free. But he still controlled Jeff and the pale rider. Dave would have no choice but fight Jeff.

Jeff would lose this battle and hell wouldn't help him. It had more use of Jeff dead than alive because his death would mean taking his soul. If the pale rider wasn't going to walk free and feed it with souls, then hell would kill Jeff and take his life. Since the white rider and the red had probably failed, things didn't look good the black or the pale one. The final act would be played between the mortal battle of the two men to the death.

Mark had to get to them fast. He had the pendant with him and he needed to use it on Jeff.

But he had his own battle to win. Right now there as nothing he could do for them. And there was no weapon he could use to destroy the black rider.

Suddenly he smelled moisture; he looked around him but he was till in the same room. He didn't have the time to think this weird smell over.

"This is our fight… this game is our fight." The black rider spoke. "We are not going to do battle but our fate will be decided upon the outcome of the clash between Dave and Jeff."

The black rider spoke no more. His robes started to evaporate and take the misty form he had used to enter the room.

"No…" Mark yelled and tried to stop him but his hands grabbed nothing but air and black fog. It was frustrating to prepare all his life for this and when the time had finally arrived the fight had ended before it had even begun.

The black mist crawled back up and went out the window to the dark night leaving Mark alone and angry inside the old room. The black rider was clever than he had given him credit for. Mark knew now that John and his brother had been successful with their struggle and the black one would stand no chance against him of they came to blows. Like the other demons he had met in the past, the black rider had chosen the coward's way out.

He stepped away from the window and turned around facing the balance.

It still stood unmoving with both items intact. Mark bowed down and took the feather and the heart in his hand and put them together in the same pocket of his coat. In the other his hand clasped the pendant.

He walked to the door and stood in front of it.

He tried to open it but it was still locked.

"You have no real power here… in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, I command you to open this door and let me pass." He yelled in the air, exorcising whatever demon was keeping him inside.

A small click was heard and the door opened slightly. Mark reached his hand and taking a deep breath, opened the door. It made a loud noise. Mark stepped out the room into a place that smelled strongly of moisture and old air.

A cave.

What he saw behind hit him like a punch and took his breath away.

"Dave… NO…. STOP"

And lunged forward.


	17. CHAPTER 16 THE PALE RIDER

**CHAPTER 16-THE**** PALE RIDER**

"Welcome to my domain" Jeff called from a deeper corner of the cave.

Dave opened his eyes. It took a few moments to adjust to the darkness of his surroundings but as soon as he was able to see, he realized in terror that he had been transported to the same cave of his dream.

The one in which he had seen the balance and the small bird drinking the poison and die. He desperately looked around trying to find a way out of there, but there was no exit.

"Am I dreaming?"

Jeff nodded negatively his head, his face still wearing the fake creepy smile he wore back at the house.

"This is as real as it gets… and we are here, together"

"I thought I was going to fight the pale rider."

"Just because he is not here, it doesn't mean that the fight won't take place."

"I won't fight you"

"We… don't have a choice. Like the arrow is the white rider's weapon and the sword is the red one's, so does Hell is truly the pale rider's weapon… and as you already know…" Jeff stepped forward with hands clasped behind his back, "I am hell"

Instinctively Dave stepped back but his head hit the cave walls.

The cave wasn't too big and Dave knew that he would have trouble manoeuvring around. Jeff was smaller in stature and much more flexible than he was. His big muscles and height made it uncomfortable to move.

But what was more important was the fact that he didn't want to fight Jeff. Still, despite this confined space, Dave felt he had the advantage and the upper hand when it came to muscle and power. If they came to blows he knew very well that the young Hardy wouldn't stand a chance.

"I know you are still in there Jeff… please fight this…" he pleaded and the sadness inside his heart became greater. "You have to fight this"

"Why?" Came the question in a calm voice and Jeff tilted his head to the right, a gesture that reminded Dave of a small child. Hell was taunting him, luring him into playing its game. Only Dave didn't realize that he was walking into a trap and without thinking he gave his reply.

"Because I can't lose you now… it has taken me so long to find you… my soul mate, my other half… and it is too painful to see you like this"

"Like what?"

"Corrupted… lost"

Jeff laughed out loud and for a moment his voice deepened and seemed to come from the centre of the earth. His eyes changed colour and took a permanent blood red colour. His teeth changed and became the same nail shaped razor sharp fangs he had back at the house.

Dave didn't have time to react when he saw him leap and land fiercely on top of him making him stumble back, hit the cave wall and fall on the cold wet floor dazed and in pain. Jeff immediately jumped and sat on top of his chest, using all his weight to pin him down. His nails became longer and black and his fingers seemed to start rotten veins that spread all the way up his arm. His tattoos were red, like the ink he had used was made of blood. A putrid smell was coming from his mouth; the smell of death.

He leaned close to Dave and let his two forked tongue lick his lips sensually before licking Dave's ear. Saliva and blood soon was covering his ear and the left side of his head making his stomach turn. He closed his eyes tightly trying to restrain himself. He could easily get rid of Jeff from on top of him, but that would probably hurt Jeff… and he didn't want that. He had been prepared by the undertaker about tonight, but none of them could have known that the final battle would be between the two friends.

The touch of the tongue in his flesh was boiling hot and the saliva felt like acid against his skin.

He screamed and his voice echoed on the walls making the cave seem much larger than it first had appeared.

"Stop it Jeff" Dave ordered from inside the pain and grabbed his arms painfully, ready to push him off of him.

"Do you really want me to?" he asked lustfully and he leaned his body closer. His chest was touching Dave's and his groin was on top of his. Slowly and lusciously he started rubbing against him. His ugly hands turned his face and Dave looked into his red eyes. "Would it make it easier if I looked more human?"

He asked and his eyes changed again to their natural colour. His teeth became normal and the hands softened once more. Wet long hair, tender skin and soft eyes gazed back at him. And that smell… it was gone, replaced by the sweet smell of Jeff's skin. Jeff brought his fingers on Dave's face and let them caress his eyes and his lips tenderly. He was still moving slowly, rubbing his body against Dave's and he was looking into his eyes with such clarity and innocence.

For a moment, Dave was lost and forgot where he was. Amazed by the sight of his soul mate looking so beautiful, by the friction of their bodies, by the unending depth of his clear eyes, he thought how much he wanted this; how much he wanted to give in.

Jeff leaned his face and only a couple of inches separated their lips.

"I want to taste you" he said and his voice had found the same North Carolina accent.

Numb by the sudden change and erratic behaviour, Dave couldn't find the strength to respond or react. He didn't resist when Jeff closed the distance and let his tongue trace the contour of his lips. The touch was so soft and the taste of his lips so sweet. In his ears he could hear his own blood pulsing and his heartbeat get faster. He was flushed and already heaving with desire and lust. The only thing he could think was how much he wanted to taste his mouth, taste his skin, touch him and become one with him.

Without thinking he opened his mouth welcoming the kiss. Jeff's tongue entered his mouth and closed his lips around those of the man beneath him. The taste inside was sweet like he thought but also sour at the same time. It was sweet from the lust and sour from fury. Jeff let his hands travel down to Dave's chest and lower, reaching for the end of his shirt.

His hands were as soft as his lips had been. The tips of his fingers caressed his navel and his chest, mapping every inch of his body making Dave gasp on pleasure. For a few minutes he had forgotten where he was and who he was really with. Seduced by the cunning ways of Hell, he had fallen into its trap and had revealed his weakness. The same weakness that had made the banishing ritual fail.

His feelings…

Jeff's movements on top sent shivers down his body making him shake from lust. His hands were still grabbing his arms but he had loosened his grip. He released them and imitating Jeff's moves, he touched the chest of the man above him. He caressed his muscles and the soft skin thinking how much he wanted this… thinking how weird it was to feel this way about another man…

He closed his eyes, surrendering to the deep kiss and the superb new sensation that surged through his body.

He wished this wouldn't end.

But sudden pain and flesh tearing shocked him into opening his eyes and stop the kiss. He looked at the man above him and that was when he realized how stupid he had been. He screamed again but then his breath seemed to escape him.

Jeff above him still rubbing against him had transformed back into the hideous and grotesque image of Hell. The rotten veins had spread into his body and neck, forming a tangled web.

Dave wanted to cry from the insufferable pain that was coming from his sides. He didn't have to look to know that Jeff's hands were no longer human. He could feel the long sharp nails digging into his flesh, deep into his sides, tearing him open and bleeding him.

"Even now… even in such pain… your body betrays you…"

"No" he wheezed "please stop…"

"You say no but I can feel your body aching for more… do you want me Dave?" he pronounced his name with voluptuousness and revealed again his long tongue. "Do you really want me to stop?"

He tensed his fingers and the nails dug deeper. Dave took a raspy inhalation and closed his eyes, trying to withstand the pain.

"Yes… stop" he managed to say.

"No…" he smiled evilly and his eyes shone a brighter shade of red. "This is our fight, and as you know, it is to the death…"

Dave opened his eyes and looked at him sadly.

"So be it then" he whispered and with one swift painful move he brought his right arm up and punched Jeff to the side of his head knocking him away. Jeff fell on the cave and his head bounced against the sharp edges of the walls.

Dave had a few minutes to breathe and gather his strength. He crawled away from the fallen man and lifted up his shirt to do some damage check. On both sides of his torso, there were long gashes and deep holes, five on each side… one for each nail. It hurt to breathe but he figured it could be worse. He hated that even now his body was still carrying the memories of Jeff's touch and was still reacting improperly. He heard Jeff stir and move from the spot he had fallen. A deep cut was above his eyebrow and blood ran freely down his cheek and neck.

His eyes were angry and showed no signs of pain.

He knelt down, a few paces away from Dave and looked at him seriously.

The game was about to end. They both felt that the next move would be the one to decide the winner.

"What happens to Jeff if I win?" Dave asked through his panting.

"He dies"

"And his soul?"

"He is no saint… he has sinned in his life… and he will come with me…"

"What about absolution? What right do you have to decide who goes to hell? Who made you God? Shouldn't He be the one to judge? Why don't you give Jeff a chance to ask for forgiveness before dying?"

"You fail to understand that this is the point of the four horsemen coming alive; they defy God… the rules, dogmas and religions don't apply to them… to ME… I came here to do as I please… so don't try to win with your superficial knowledge of heaven, hell and God… the four horsemen will ride again and there would be no stopping into the coming of the true master…"

"The antichrist!" The realization hit him like a freight train.

"Yes…"

Dave squeezed his lips and dried the tears from his face. He could feel sharp rocks behind his back on the ground where he sat. His hand searched for one and Jeff didn't seem to see what he was doing. In the half light of the cave, the corner were Dave had crawled was dark and full of shadows.

He found one and took it in his palm. He didn't want to do this but he had to. He knew very well that if Jeff was in his shoes he would have done the same thing. If he could speak, he would tell him that he would rather die and suffer and eternity in hell than let the antichrist walk free and torture all the people he loved. There was no doubt in his mind that this is what Mark and the others would do in his place.

The rock he held was as sharp as an axe's blade. The blow would be swift and the death quick. Jeff wouldn't suffer.

Both men attacked at the same time. Their bodies tensed and their muscles stretched. Jeff's attack was aiming low while Dave's aimed high. Jeff was faster but it made no difference at this point. The closed space didn't give mush of an advantage to the smaller man after all.

Dave held the rock tighter in his fist until he felt blood ran.

Jeff hit his stomach but his momentum and body weight weren't as good as Dave's. Despite his wounds, he was still stronger and heavier. Jeff bounced on his chest and started to fall backwards puling Dave with him.

Both men fell down and Dave landed on top. He fisted the rock and lifted his arm above his head.

And without thought he brought it down.

"Dave… NO…. STOP"

A familiar voice stopped him in the last moment. The rock was stopped a couple of inches away from Jeff's temple.

Mark's long strides brought him next to Dave. He quickly removed the rock from his fist and threw it away.

"Mark? What are you doing here? Where did you come from?"

Dave was lost and surprised.

"Are you real?" he asked no truly believing what he was seeing.

"Yes I am real…"

"Why are YOU here? Weren't you supposed to fight the black rider?"

"It is complicated."

"Did the black rider fail?" Jeff asked smirking under Dave's weight as if he had been expecting the failure. "Guess what that means? Jeff is mine! Say goodbye!"

Black tongue hissed at them for the last time and soon blood spluttered from Jeff's mouth. His once red eyes took their natural colour and then rolled backwards as violent convulsions began.

"No… Mark… no…" Dave begged. "Please help him"

Mark dug his hand in his pocket and took out the pendant. He pushed Dave away and knelt down next to Jeff. He leaned his face close to Jeff's and whispered him.

"I'm so sorry Jeff… I made you a promise… and I'll keep it… I promise you"

With force, he ripped Jeff's shirt open and placed the pendant on top of his heart. Immediately, Jeff's eye shone red again and the two forked tongue came into view. He hissed and the convulsions grew.

"NOOOO!!!!" he screamed and blood started to ran from his eyes and the demon inside was being exorcised. "This one is mine…MINE!"

"Mark… stop it!" Dave begged. This was killing the young Hardy. Hell wouldn't let them win.

"I can't stop… not right now… if I stop, he will die."

The pendant was burning Jeff's skin marking his flesh with its symbol. Blood continued to run from his mouth and nose and they could hear bones breaking. Blood tears stopped and salty clear ones appeared.

It seemed to last an eternity.

For just an instant, Hell receded, and Jeff's eyesight cleared. He looked at the two men above him and sobbed.

"You promised me…" Jeff sobbed from within the pain. "Don't let it take me" and blood spewed anew.

"I won't… I won't…" he said and held the pendant firmly on top of the shaking body.

Dave looked and cried. He took Jeff's hand and held it above his heart.

"Don't go" he pleaded.

But Jeff couldn't speak any more. He just looked at him with a glance he couldn't decipher.

Mark remembered the words he and Jeff had spoken back at the house.

_["Mark… I don't want to become one of them… I don't want to be the reason for the apocalypse… for our failure…"_

"_Don't worry about that… I won't let you…"_

"_Will you kill me if it comes to that? Dave won't do it…"_

"_If it comes down to that… I won't have to kill you…"]_

Dave grabbed Mark's hand and tried to jerk the pendant away. But the dead man was stronger and resisted. He used his other hand and stopped him.

"Dave, this is what is best"

"You are killing him"

"No, I'm not. This pendant will exorcise Hell…" he stopped and looked furiously at him. Dave sensed a 'but' coming. "But it won't save him either"

Abruptly Jeff screamed in his own voice; a heart-wrenching, tired and sad yell emanating from this chest. Black decomposing liquid exited his mouth, ears and nose and trickled on the ground, disappearing deep into the earth without a trace.

Then a single tear fell.

And then nothing.

Jeff stopped convulsing and he lay limp on the floor. His eyes still wide open, blinking but his stare was glassy and empty. His hair, wet from sweat and moisture, clung to his face. Dave felt sobs rise to rise throat when the hand he held so tightly went limp. He wiped the strands of hair away and cleaned his face from the blood and the tears.

"I am sorry Dave but this was the only way… Jeff's mind couldn't withstand the powers inside him… when Hell and God collided in him, his mind couldn't endure or comprehend the immensity of good and evil and… it broke."

But Dave could no longer speak. He could only cry. He took Jeff's body into his embrace and held it like there was no tomorrow. He held him close to his own heart and kissed his now blank and empty face, not believing he had lost him so soon.

_[__"I don't want to loose you now that I have just found you"_

"_Dave… I need you… I need you so much for this… all I know is that I can't do this without you."_

"_I am right here… with you… I will stand with you all the way"_

"_To the bitter end?"_

"_Don't speak of the end… now that I have found you, I know I can not live without you" _

"_Yes you can… you have done in the past and you will in the future… I am sorry to be the one leaving you behind"]_

Words they had spoken a few hours ago had now come true and they hurt… they hurt him a lot. He hadn't wanted to believe them at the time but now there was no choice. Everything had happened so fast he was never given the opportunity to tell him what was in his heart.

He had lost him. And all he could do was cradle him and cry.

They heard noise and talking coming from a distance behind them. When they lifted their eyes, they saw that sometime during the exorcism they had been transported back at the house. They were still kneeling but they were in the middle of the room of the old abandoned house.

"What happened?" John asked as he limped towards them, helped by Glen. "You just appeared there from the shadows… what's wrong?"

"You used the pendant?" this was more of an observation than a question that Glen asked and Mark only nodded.

Glen lowered John and sat him next to Jeff's body. He had started to cry as well.

Mark stood up and walked to his brother.

"You had no choice" Glen said softly to his brother and Mark just shook his hand.

"Then why do I feel this way? Why do I feel like we lost tonight?"

"Jeff was doomed to begin with. You did what you could to save him"

"Save him?" he looked at Glen for the first time with tears welling. "HE IS A FUCKING VEGETABLE!" he screamed and stormed out of the house not wanting the others to see him cry.

He had saved the world… and had lost his own world tonight.

Glen stood inside, looking at Jeff.

They had won but the personal cost was too great and it didn't feel like a victory.

Jeff's eyes were looking blankly the ceiling, emotionless and expressionless; his mind and body broken beyond repair, devoid of consciousness and any sign of intellect. The struggle that had taken place inside him had been too much for his mind and soul to hold. It had broken and his reason had been damaged.

Dave's tears couldn't dry. He wished he could take away the pain… he wished he could join Jeff in there… he wished he had died… He didn't care about tomorrow and he didn't care about the world. All he wished was he could have him back.

He looked at John's teary eyes and breathed in sadness. Never before had he felt so alone… there was nothing anyone could say to comfort him; nothing to take away the pain. John looked at him fully knowing what he felt. He too had lost a friend tonight.

And they stayed in the house, four men half forgotten by the world for which they had sacrificed so much to save.

One lonely tear ran down Jeff's cheek.

Maybe it was a memory; maybe residue of all the things he wanted to say before the end… maybe pain… maybe nothing… it traced a course down his empty face and stopped when Dave's hand washed it away.

He still held him in his arms, holding him tightly, never wanting to let him go…

Never…

_Everything is still and calm  
In the dead of night  
Right before for the fight  
Clouds are gathering for the storm  
Destiny decides who will live or die_

I've been waiting for this moment  
It's time for the battle  
Even if I never make it  
Take me home  
I might never get my story  
Carved in stone  
But I will rise again  
The fight is to the end

Pounding of the drums of war  
Turns your tears to mud  
Rivers turn to blood  
If you live to see another day  
Take another breath  
Make it life or death

I've been waiting for this moment  
It's time for the battle  
Even if I never make it  
Take me home  
I might never get my story  
Carved in stone  
But I will rise again  
The fight is to the end

Give me strength to carry on  
'till my life is done

Everybody wants the glory  
But you better remember  
The fight is to the end  
The fight is to the end

_(Lyrics are from the song The Fight of The Rasmus)_


	18. EPILOGUE

**CHAPTER ****17-EPILOGUE**

There was no way they could ever explain what had happened; no way to ask for forgiveness from his family.

And there was no way they could ever tell anyone about what had taken place up in the mountain, up in the town above the clouds in that cursed house.

And there was no absolution for any of them.

The ride home was a blur. Dave rode with John at the back of the car, with Jeff still cradled in his arms like a child. His tears had dried some time during their drive but he still didn't want to let go. Jeff had his eyes wide open during the whole drive home, his head resting on Dave's chest, looking the world outside. They had left the small town on the early hours of the following day and they had begun their descent back home.

Home…

There was no real home… not any more.

Mark and Glen had come up with a plan as to what to say it had happened. The little the others would know the better it would be. It wouldn't help them or Jeff if the truth had been told.

No one would believe them anyway.

No one ever would believe an absurd story about the four horsemen, the apocalypse, about Hell and the antichrist. It was such an illogical story to begin with. It pained the four friends that they would have to hide what had taken place not because they wanted to be viewed as heroes and saviours of the world, but simply because Jeff's friends and family deserved that much. They needed to know how hard he had fought his demons and how happy he had been for having found his soul mate, even if it had been for a few hours.

But no one could ever know. Not his brother Matt and not his father…

No one.

Dave wanted to cry again. But he managed to control his once more welling feelings and cradled Jeff closer instead. He felt cold and lonely. He looked at John beside him and knew that he too was devastated.

And they all feared the consequences of their actions.

Mark had told them that he would handle their jobs; he would tell Vince and the WWE that they all had taken a ride to the next taping together and that they had to stop to spend the night at a motel. He would tell them that they had found Jeff in this state the following morning and none of them would know what had taken place during his stay at his room. They would give no reason and they would have no clue as to what had happened to him.

Their lie would be short and simple.

But still everyone felt so disgusted with themselves for lying. Jeff didn't deserve this but they didn't have a choice.

"How am I going to live with myself after this?" John asked them at one point when they had stopped the car near a lake. Mark had stopped wanting to get some air, feeling the weight of guilt crashing him down. He had exited the car and had walked near the water. Around them there were tall thick trees and the smell of pines, grass and flowers was too strong to ignore. It was too painful… all reminded him of Jeff. He turned and looked at Dave still sitting inside the car with his precious cargo. He had his window open… there was no reason to keep it closed. There were no evil creatures and no more demons lurking to get inside. There was just the woods and early morning mist that slowly faded to the rising rays of the sun. He needed to smell the air and let Jeff smell it too.

They knew they had to go back, but all of them felt the need to just stop at this place of beauty. The small country road they had chosen to take didn't have many cars passing through it and they were grateful for that. They needed to be alone with each other.

No one answered John's question. No one had an answer. Mark was sad because it was one more burden for him to carry; one more guilt on his tired soul; one more regret that wouldn't let him sleep at night. But the others didn't know how to cope with this. It was all too new for them and they didn't know how to handle it.

And he couldn't them because in all his long years, one thing he hadn't learnt was how to live with himself after all he had done. There was no method and nothing he could tell them to make them feel better.

"I'm sorry" Mark said and turned to face them.

"For what?" his brother asked coming next to him.

"For everything… for being brought into this… for suffering… for not preparing you better…"

"Was there anything more you could have done?" John asked from the car. He was leaning outside of the passenger's door next to Dave and Jeff.

"I don't know… maybe… maybe not…"

"If someone is sorry that is us. I can't even imagine what it was like for you growing up with this hanging above your head… with the fate of the world in your hands"

"You have been training for this all you life and now you have done it… you succeeded." Glen told him with soft voice.

"But I still made mistakes… critical… costly mistakes…."

"You saved the world" his brother reminded him.

"Yeah… but I lost Jeff" the bitterness in him surfaced in these simple words. "It still amazes me how easily all of you accepted this and I am grateful I had you by my side…"

"If you could go back… would you have done anything differently?" Dave spoke from the car. He had asked without looking at them. He was looking into the clear eyes of Jeff, caressing his colourful hair.

"I am sorry to say 'yes' "

"What would you change?" John asked and took a step towards him.

"Prepare you better… try and help Jeff… not let him…" he didn't finish his phrase, still unable to come to terms with what he had done.

"There was nothing else you could tell us. You can't teach us in a few hours what took you many years to learn" Glen told him. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. It is not yours to bear any more."

"I still failed him" he said and pointed at Jeff.

"Jeff didn't have a chance to begin with. Even if you knew, was there anything else you could have done?"

"I would try harder… act sooner" he yelled angrily.

"There was no way you could have known in time that Hell had chosen Jeff. When we found out about him it was already too late… even if we hadn't taken him with us, he still would have found a way to get to that place… taking him along only made things easier for him… it gave us the chance to use the pendant, save the world and save his soul… don't you see it brother?"

"There was no other way…" John added.

"We are still guilty" Dave told them sternly but calmly and looked them. "How will we be able to look into the eyes of his family and lie? How can we leave Jeff alone after all this?"

"We can't do anything else" Glen told him and entered the car. "This is the price we'll have to pay… if there is guilt to spend around, then we all must carry our share"

Mark walked away a few feet and his steps brought him to the lake shore. The waters were so clear and so cold this time of day. Most of the mist had gone and the early birds were starting to sing. A small colourful bird flew by him and landed on the opened car window.

All looked at it.

It showed no fear of being so close to them. It looked at Jeff and tilted its little head to the left, examining him. Tears ran anew from Dave's face and his chest heaved from the sobs. The small bird flapped its wings and after a few seconds, it flew away leaving them alone.

And never before had they all felt so alone.

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The door closed with a soft sound but in his ears it sounded like the sound of a car crash. The white interior walls and the stench of ammonia were no stranger to him. He walked to the big glass window and peaked inside.

The image was too sad and heart breaking to be able to live with.

Jeff Hardy the once energetic, gifted and passionate athlete, the artist, the son, the brother and friend was now but a fading shadow of his old self. There was nothing left. He was inside a room of white padded walls, lying on a bed with glassy eyes looking at the ceiling. He rarely blinked and his mouth was half open, like it was stuck at the beginning of a silent scream. His body was loose and limp showing no signs of life but a steady shallow breathing. His liquid eyes showed traces that he had been crying not long ago.

Matt Hardy had lost the earth under his feet. He was numb and unable to come to terms with the new reality.

What he couldn't understand and no one had explained was what had happened. How would he be able to tell his father about his young brother without breaking his heart... his father would be devastated… God only knew his own heart was already shattered. He felt guilty somehow for this because he had always been the older brother, the one responsible for taking care of his small pain in this ass brother. How could he have left him unprotected? What had Jeff done to end up like this?

The doctors had told him they had found no drugs in his system and the examination had shown no signs of any chemical imbalance to justify his vegetated state. The psychiatrist had told him that sometimes when the mind receives a powerful shock it falls into some sort of trance trying to protect itself.

"Is there any chance he might wake up?" Matt had asked but the doctor shook his head.

"There is… but in my twenty years of expertise in the field, I have never seen anyone wake up from this… he is far too gone to find the way back to us…" he had looked at Matt and saw the despair "But there is always hope" he had tried to smile at him but he had never been good at giving patients' families hope.

A little while later, Matt was alarmed by screaming coming from Jeff's room. He had run only to come face to face with nurses and doctor's trying to restrain his brother.

He had almost fainted at the terrible sight. Jeff's eyes were wide open, too much fear and too much pain in them. He couldn't recognise anyone around him and he couldn't hear the nurses or the doctors or his brother when they called his name. He was somewhere else. He was screaming incomprehensible words and crying desperately fighting an invisible enemy while hurting himself in the process. Matt was forced out of the room and the nurses had given him a tranquilizing shot to put him to sleep.

Then the restraints and the straight jacket were used.

Matt Hardy was but a shadow of himself. He was standing outside the now too quiet room. He vaguely remembered the phone call Mark had given him, urging him to come to the hospital because something was wrong with his baby brother. He had gone to the hospital, driven like a mad man there, only to find him in a vegetated state… and no explanation.

His little brother… a vegetable! How? How can a person with so much life force, will to live, creativity and passion end up like that?

He was angry because no one could give him a reason and no one could tell him if Jeff would ever wake up. Police had done interviews and taken statements from all four men who had travelled with Jeff. Forensics had gone to the motel they had stayed…

Of course, they had found nothing because they had never been truly there. But the police didn't know that. Mark had paid off the employee a lot of money to tell the police they had rented five rooms and had paid him extra to fake the motel's registry and receits.

Matt had tried talking to them but none would face him. Dave couldn't even look at him let alone speak to him. John had managed to mumble some excuse and Glen pretended to be as clueless as Matt was. His last hope was Mark but he was nowhere to be found.

Matt hadn't called his father yet… he would tell him the news himself before he found out from a third person. He would drive to their home, sit him down and tell him… then he would take him see his son…

He was still standing outside Jeff's room when he heard footsteps behind him. Mark came and stood next to him and looked at the patient inside.

"I was looking for you" Matt said and let his head rest on the glass window not taking his eyes off of his brother.

"I know"

"Will you tell me what happened? Please…"

"I don't know"

"Mark, please" Matt was at tears. "That is my baby brother in there… he is in a straight jacket… I have to leave in a while and go back home… my dad is going to ask me… and I have nothing to tell him… it will destroy him..." his lips were trembling and it broke Mark's heart. That is how he too felt.

"Matt… you wouldn't understand."

"Please tell me…" he begged and touched the dead man's arm. "I have to know… you were the last to see him…"

"Don't do this… trust me when I say that you are better not knowing"

Matt stared at him in awe and anger.

"Why won't you tell me?" his anger rising.

"You really wouldn't understand"

"Try me"

"No… I can't" he let his eyes fall on the floor.

"Do you have any idea what it will do to my father? What it does to me?" his whispered in rage bringing his face close to Mark's.

"Believe when I tell you that whoever did this to Jeff has paid"

"Who was it?"

"It doesn't matter… he is dead… I killed him"

Matt body jolted in surprise. His hand twitched and his gaze changed from angry to surprised and then back to angry. He had known Mark for many years but he had never figured he was as a person ready to take one's life.

But it still didn't make him feel better.

"It still doesn't change the fact that my brother is in there… " he simply said.

"I know it doesn't change things but if there is something I can do for you, I am here…"

"Can you bring him back?" he asked and looked again inside the room.

"No" he whispered and he really wanted to say that he would try to find a way. But that would require too much explaining and he was done destroying innocent people's lives by dragging them into his own. Guilt rose inside him to the size of a tidal wave. His palms became fists. He went to leave. He took a few steps before turning back to look at the old brother. "For what it's worth… I am sorry… and I know it doesn't change much, but I am paying for what I did… we all are…"

"Me too" His gaze hardened while his body tensed more "I don't ever want to see you again. Do you understand me?" He asked and his eyes flashed with uncontrollable fury. "The only reason I don't go to the police is because I have nothing to prove you were involved. But I know better and my gut tells me you are responsible for this… and when I look into your eyes, I know I'm right because all I see is guilt… The only reason I don't kill you right now is because I want you to suffer like Jeff does… You… you are dead to me… you and the others…"

Matt continued to stare at Mark and spoke no more. He could see the regret in his eyes and that made him feel angrier. He turned his back on the dead man and looked back into his brother's room trying to control his temper. His rage had taken him over completely… he hated the people he had once called his friends, those he had once called his 'other' family; those he worked with and trusted once…

Once… but not any more… now he didn't want to look at them. He had so much hate in his heart. There was no way he could ever trust them again, not when he didn't know what had happened… not when Mark and the others were somehow involved.

Mark's steps felt so much heavier and when he stepped outside he wanted to scream his lungs out. He knew this would come and if he were in Matt's place he would have reacted the same way… maybe worse… He looked at the closing doors behind him but the bright sun wouldn't let him see inside. There was nothing to make him feel better… not any more….

He got inside the car and drove away.

He threw one last glance behind him and read the sign hanging above the front gate.

"ONAR PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL" (*)

The sign was old and faded and the gate rusted. Old vines, trees and uncut grass gave the hospital a sense of neglect and abandonment and the building itself had seen better days.

"My God help me… what have I done?" he asked out loud and it was at this moment he made a critical decision… one that would change many lives.

"I promise you Jeff… I will find a way to bring you back… I promise"

END OF PART 1

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(^) ONAR is the ancient Greek word for _dream_.

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This is the end of part one. I am currently writing the second part of this story titled "TORTURE GARDEN". I have a few ideas but I would be thankful if you could give me any suggestions, thoughts and ideas about what you want to come next. I know there are still many loose ends and I intend on seeing to them in the sequel but you can send me anything you want to see happen and I promise to take it under serious consideration.

I would like to thank all who read the story and all those who reviewed it, especially ashura77, Souless666, Animal Luvr 4 Life, Esha Napoleon, VASHORTYGIRL and coolchic 79260. You have my eternal love and gratitude. You have really given me strength to keep writing this with your encouraging words.

I will see you soon on the other…

Love always…


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